


Next To You

by herbeautifullie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M, Mpreg, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-30
Updated: 2012-03-30
Packaged: 2017-11-02 18:00:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/371794
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbeautifullie/pseuds/herbeautifullie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius couldn't be bothered to feign disappointment. His eyes were latched on James' profile, watching as he stared up at Teddy's face with a level of determination in his eyes that made Scorpius think that maybe – even after five years of struggling to prove his worth, thinking that he may have finally succeeded – he had done nothing but keep James occupied enough to handle not having Teddy for himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Next To You

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for wizsprogs' first fest ([here](http://wizsprogs.livejournal.com/9710.html)) for the following prompt:  
>  _Scorpius knew that his boyfriend James was in love with Teddy Lupin when he accept that first date in their seventh year at Hogwarts. Over the five years of their relationship, Scorpius had come to believe that James was now completely devoted to him. But when James came home with the news that he accepted to become Teddy and Victoire's surrogate, Scorpius came to the conclusion that when it come to love, he would always be James' second choice. So heartbroken that it sickening him, Scorpius broke up with James. He move back with his disapproving father only to realized that he is pregnant from James' baby. I'd like an happy ending if possible._ \- aj_horn on LJ
> 
> The lovely Summer beta read this for me. I'd like to thank her for being so awesome! She helped me through even though I didn't give her the ending she wanted (maybe I'll write an alternate just for you, dear! ♥) and cleaned up my awful mess. Sorry it's so long, the prompt really got away from me. It was a very creative idea and I loved working with it!

_\- - - - -  
{snow  & lights}  
\- - - - -_

Scorpius frowned as Albus settled himself next to him, pressing his arm against Scorpius' uncomfortably on the Potters' overstuffed red sofa. Holding his tongue, Scorpius aimed to not cause a scene on Christmas while everyone else was smiling and passing presents from under the tree. The red and gold ornaments sparkled from the fairy lights, distracting Scorpius enough for Albus to pull his arm free and settle it on the back of the sofa.

Scorpius ignored him. Silence, to Albus Potter, seemed to be permission for the unthinkable. His fingers found the soft hairs at the nape of Scorpius' neck and they twisted tiny patterns against the skin. Albus smirked, the corner of his lips pulled tight dangerously.

"Stop," warned Scorpius. His tone left no room for argument as he moved further into the sofa's arm, crushing his side in his attempt to put as much space as possible between he and Albus. Making room was a difficult task when seated on a sofa with four gingers and a mischievous Potter.

" _Stop it,_ " Scorpius hissed when Albus continued. He leaned forward to dislodge the other from his motions.

Albus was unfazed. Turning his body slightly toward Scorpius', he ducked his head close to Scorpius' ear. "You look great tonight," he murmured quietly, "I'll bet James didn't say anything similar."

"You're wrong," Scorpius replied, conscious that he was lying and hoping the slight waver in his voice didn't give him away. James had been busy getting himself ready and had muttered about being late for an hour before they made it through the Floo. His ignorance to the red jumper Scorpius' wore just for him and the Muggle jeans James had picked out himself in London wasn't intentional; it was accidental and hardly anything to be disappointed about.

But he couldn't help but feel a bit let down regardless.

James smiled on the other side of room, leaning against Teddy's side as the other lazily wrapped his arm around James' shoulder. At one time, Scorpius thought that smile belonged to him alone – a single thing about James that he wasn't forced to share with the world – but five years ago, the first time he'd joined the Potter-Weasley family for Christmas in Godric's Hallow, he'd been every bit as disappointed as his father promised him he would be.

Before then, he and Albus' relationship had been the definition of indifference. They'd made it nearly seven years at Hogwarts actively ignoring each others' existence, not finding the other worthy of their time or energy aside from the Quidditch pitch. Even then, there was little competition between Gryffindor's star Chaser and Ravenclaw's swotty Seeker. Defeating the Potter trio in the sport their families had practically dominated from birth was impossible. Scorpius had never jaded himself into thinking it was possible to out-race, out-reach or out-shine any of the Potters.

It was that first Christmas when Albus reared the ugly side of his personality, the side that most only whispered about in the dusty, dark corners of the halls at Hogwarts. They'd found themselves in a similar position, Scorpius pressed into the corner of the sofa and Albus moving closer. "I'll be fair with you," he'd said, green eyes flashing as Scorpius glanced up with a look of disinterest, "and warn you now that James isn't going to be your boyfriend – not really, anyway. Teddy is the only thing that exists in James' world – it's been him since the beginning – and if you think you're going to change that, you're mad."

Scorpius had looked toward the doorway of the kitchen, watched as James shared that damn smile and felt the ice settle in his chest. He was, by no means, a romantic but... Was it wrong to want something so simple and sweet to be his own? To have a piece of James for himself and be the selfish – and incredibly lucky – one who was blessed with that pull of lips, flash of straight white teeth and breath-taking laugh?

He'd risen then, stepped over Albus' outstretched legs and moved from the scene, determined to walk away before Al could plant another ounce of doubt in his troubled mind. There was nothing wrong with Teddy and James' relationship, he'd thought. It was endearing – James' respect for Teddy, his fascination and devotion.

His affection.

_Fuck._

He'd gasped when his back collided with the archway before the door, lips parting wide enough for Al's tongue to push past them with ease. Scorpius had pushed away in vain, attempting to fight Albus' tongue as it moved against his – anxious, warm and tasting of cinnamon and cocoa. 

"Mistletoe," Al explained when he pulled away. He motioned upward, drawing Scorpius' eyes to the hanging foliage above them. "Remember that when you come to your senses about James."

Scorpius had taken a breath, attempted to calm his nerves and opened the door. When he'd reached the end of the road, he'd turned back to look behind him, hoping James would be running to catch up, apologising for leaving him without company in a house full of strangers and explaining what exactly they were meant to be, that there was nothing beyond brotherly adoration between he and Teddy.

But the path was silent, snow drifting from the pale grey clouds above and covering Scorpius' shoulders with fine white flakes. He'd left his cloak and could feel the cold nipping at the tips of his fingers and the soft planes of his face. James was nowhere to be seen and for a moment, Scorpius had considered that maybe there was some truth behind Al's words.

Now, four Christmases later, James turned away from Teddy. Warm brown eyes searched the room before they settled on Scorpius' distinctive colouring. James smiled and winked, glancing to Al – the nuisance momentarily distracted by one of his sister's overzealous friends – and mouthed, 'is he being a tosser?'

Scorpius nodded, pale brow lifting in a way that said, 'when is he not?' and smiled when James laughed. Teddy returned from around the corner, fingers intertwined with Victoire's and Scorpius was certain their faces were prepared to split in half from their smiles. Even their eyes were brighter than they've been since they started attempting to start a family of their own. For a moment, Scorpius didn't feel quite as envious of Teddy... for a moment, he felt sorry for him.

"We have two announcements to make," Teddy said, his voice loud enough to attract the attention of anyone who wasn't already watching the anxious couple and James. Victoire was the definition of beauty beside him; pale blonde hair flowing over her shoulders and cerulean eyes filled with excitement as she watched Teddy while James ran a nervous hand through his hair and attempted to avoid direct eye contact.

It was nerve-wracking. Suddenly Scorpius felt like there was something he was supposed to know and didn't. James shifted at Teddy's side, moving into the arm that wrapped around his waist with the kind of familiarity James might have with Scorpius. He was going to be sick if he didn't leave but Albus took that moment to mock Teddy's movements by sliding his arm around Scorpius' own waist, tugging him toward his side and muttering, "This should be interesting, shouldn't it? They look quite cosy."

"Bad news first, I'm afraid," said Teddy from the other side of the room. He frowned a little, the damper on his smile beckoning a series of ' _awww_ 's from the family scattered about. "Our newest possible surrogate has decided that the task is not something she's prepared to handle."

"Oh, Teddy..." Mrs. Potter said softly, pulling her hand from her lap to cover her mouth. She shook her head and the rest of her family followed until Albus and Scorpius were the only two who didn't seem grief-stricken over the news. Albus even dared to snort and mumble, "Well, I called that, didn't I?" and Scorpius was glad the sound was lost in the sea of whispering Weasleys and sniffling noses.

Scorpius couldn't be bothered to feign disappointment. His eyes were latched on James' profile, watching as he stared up at Teddy's face with a level of determination in his eyes that made Scorpius think that maybe – even after five years of struggling to prove his worth, thinking that he may have finally succeeded – he had done nothing but keep James occupied enough to handle not having Teddy for himself.

Scorpius Malfoy, James Potter's long-term distraction.

He was certain his ancestors were rolling in their graves, rising from the dead right then.

Teddy nodded, mumbling his appreciation for their concern. "But, I have great news, as well."

"Let's hear it," Charlie announced. The others followed, Rose making a point to raise her wine glass in salute of the idea.

"James, here," Teddy started, his voice warmer than the hearth crackling behind him and forcing the room into silence as he pulled James closer, "has been the best mate a man could ever ask for."

Moving to rise, Scorpius silently hoped to make it to the loo before he was sick in front of them all. He hated the idea of stealing Teddy's spotlight, especially after being reminded of how inconsequential he was when Teddy was around.

He hated even more to have to listen to their nonsense.

"He's been the most amazing pseudo-brother I could ever ask for–"

The room laughed. Mr. Potter smiled at them both in the proud way a father could only ever offer a son. Al hissed, "Because he's been drooling over his cock since birth, waiting for Victoire to keel over so he can take his place at Teddy's side. Bet he thinks they'd make a _lovely_ couple."

"Fuck off," Scorpius replied. He meant to be quiet, but the demand had come out loud enough to attract Lily's attention for a moment. She frowned, shook her head and turned back to Teddy as Scorpius leaned down in to the sofa. He attempted to dislodge Albus' grasp and failed miserably.

"– taught me so much about friendship, family and even attempted to teach me his amazing Quidditch tricks –"

Al scoffed. "Teddy has never ridden a broom a day in his life and the only broomstick James wants to ride when Teddy is around is _his_."

"I couldn't ask for a better person," Teddy continued, blissfully ignorant to the bile that was rising in Scorpius' throat and Albus' commentary, "to be our new surrogate."

The fire crackled, icy wind shook the glass panes of the windows and no one moved.

"James is – Jamie, you're going to –" started Mr. Potter, his words stopping in his throat before he managed to complete a full sentence.

"James, up the duff! My life is finally complete," Al sniggered.

Nodding, James said, "I offered when Lizbeth backed out. I – I'm really happy to do it."

There was a cheer from the back. Scorpius was unsure of who started it but everyone seemed to follow. They rushed from their seats, excited voices filling the room as they crowded around James, Teddy and Victoire.

"Oh Merlin," Albus whispered dejectedly, "at least _pretend_ not to be so damn surprised. I'd like to mock you and not feel bad about it, you know?"

Scorpius mumbled a quick 'sorry'. He watched as James disappeared within the arms of his family – his messy mop of auburn hair barely sticking above everyone else's but not moving from Teddy's side as he took turns hugging everyone. The sickness in his stomach had settled – his nervousness gone, replaced by nothingness and shock that he was sure would evolve into anger if he decided to go home tonight and not Apparate to Malfoy Manor instead. He wasn't certain he felt much at all as he watched them – watched James celebrate, completely ignorant to the difference he has forced on their relationship, the way his disregard of Scorpius' feelings would forever change them.

The way he was willing to risk _them_ ; so many memories and five years of Scorpius' life that he would never be able to get back for _Teddy_.

Fucking _Teddy_ ; always stealing his spotlight.

Fucking _Albus_ , warning him before it was too late and making him look like a fool for staying.

Fucking _James_ , disregarding him at every corner and –

Albus' hand moved away from Scorpius' waist, returning to his side as he leaned forward. His face appeared in Scorpius' line of vision, blocking James with his eerily beautiful green eyes, touched with – Merlin, it must be the end of the world – _concern_. "Did you really have no idea?"

"I have to go." Scorpius didn't speak to anyone in particular as he rose from the sofa. He moved around Rose and Hugo, both standing off to the side waiting for their turn to hug the happy couple and the saviour of said couples' fertility. He didn't pause when a hand gripped his wrist, and attempted to pull him back as he rounded the corner and finally caught sight of the beloved door – his escape from Albus, Teddy, The Potter-Weasley family and _James_.

At first, Scorpius thought it was James who caught him outside, turned him around and pulled his face close to the warmth his chest radiated. He wondered how he'd managed to forget his cloak again but doesn't feel the sting of the wind against his skin, why the heart he listened to as his tears disappeared in to the soft wool of the Weasley jumper against his cheek didn't sound as familiar as it should and...

"What a fucking arse, yeah?" Albus' voice was light when he pulled Scorpius back to look at him, eyes not filled with the pride Scorpius expected. "I'll Apparate you home. Don't want you to splinch your heart – I don't think I could live without your sarcasm and absolute lack of charm."

"Piss off," Scorpius replied, heart not entirely in the order. When Albus pulled him close again, he couldn't seem to find any desire to argue the comfort and allowed himself to let go and leave James behind.

  
_\- - - - -  
{your hand in mine, goodbye}  
\- - - - -_   


When James reached out for Scorpius' hand, smiled and said, "I can't wait to tell you the news!" he'd never thought it would be _that_. His heart clenched when the crack of Apparation sounded from below and Scorpius knew that the automatic lights in the kitchen were flickering to life, flooding the hall with warm yellow light as James made his way up the stairs.

"Scorp?"

The third stair creaked and Scorpius sighed, letting his body sink lower in the warm bath water and wishing it could ease the pulsing ache in his head. His legs shifted, bubbles gathered on his knees when they rose to greet the cold air. He leaned his head back so only his nose and mouth were visible, hoping it will give James the hint to leave him be.

It hurt.

All of it. Everything. Every piece of him _ached_.

"Why is it that every time I turn around, you're disappearing from my family's Christmas dinner?"

Scorpius bit his tongue, keeping himself from saying, "because you never pay me any mind when Teddy is around and your brother is a wanker. I can't stand him. He's always right; Al is, especially about _you_."

"Aren't you excited?"

" _Ecstatic_."

James' sigh was deep as he moved to take a seat on the lid of the toilet. Their eyes met briefly before Scorpius looked away, entirely too vulnerable to James and the down-turned corners of his perfect lips. "I thought that if we did this, you could see that _we're_ ready. There's nothing to fear in having a family of our own and if I can do it, then you could–"

"I'm not _scared_." Water splashed at the sides of the tub as Scorpius sat up quickly. "Stop making this seem like you're doing it for _us_. None of this has anything to do with _me_. You made that clear when you decided to agree before even _talking_ to me."

There was no yelling or screaming from James in arguments. He was always strangely calm when they disagreed. Most times his face took on an expression of pity, as though Scorpius was a child and he was a parent trying to calm him. "It's natural to be afraid," James said, ignoring the glare Scorpius shot his way. "You've never experienced what a family has to offer. How can you understand how important something is if you've never had it? Scorpius, I promise –"

Growling, Scorpius rose from the tub, turning away from James and wrapping a towel quickly around his waist. He felt awkward standing naked in front of him while he preached about all the things Scorpius didn't understand – how natural the fear he _didn't feel_ is and that there is nothing strange at all about agreeing to carry someone else's baby without discussing it with your boyfriend first.

_'Yeah, because that's perfectly_ fucking normal.'

"I'm not scared," Scorpius repeated. When James' hand reached to steady him to step free from the tub, he shoved it away furiously. Water splashed over the floor, Scorpius' bare feet smacking it in as he made his way to their bedroom, practically slipping with every step. The telling sound of James' shoes followed him. "We're _wizards_ , James. We'll live to be more than 100 years old. Why do we have to have children _now_? Just because your family starts breeding at seventeen doesn't mean that I—"

"If we had been born 100 years earlier, we wouldn't even have this chance." James paused at the threshold of their room and Scorpius felt his eyes on his back as he dropped his towel. Stepping into his pants, he shook his head at the horrible argument. James sighed, his voice suddenly longing. "Do you really want to waste that?"

The dresser drawer creaked as Scorpius pulled it open harshly and tugged a shirt free from the neatly folded pile. "If we had been born 100 years earlier," he started, pausing as he pulled the shirt over his head, "then _you_ wouldn't be alive and I'd be married to a beautiful _Lady Malfoy_ by now."

James' brow crinkled in confusion, his eyes following Scorpius as he sat down on their bed with a huff of agitation. "What do you mean? I wouldn't be alive? What kind of shit is that?"

"I mean that your father would have never been born," Scorpius explained. He pulled the corner of the coverings back before sliding between the sheets. "A pureblood Potter would have never been allowed to marry a Muggleborn and there would be no Harry James Potter, saviour of the Wizarding world. No one would be falling at your feet, kissing your arse at every turn."

It was in poor taste to say things like that, Scorpius knew. He was raised with wonderful manners, was taught how to make people feel good but had also learned over the years how to make them feel awful. To target his frustration on James alone was wrong and slightly unfair. Scorpius thought he must have played a part in why James made the decision that he had but... It didn't make the truth any easier to accept. Soon James would be heavy with _Teddy's_ child, leaving his _career behind_ to carry a baby for someone he _loved_.

"And Teddy's father would have been slaughtered." There was a sharp ache in his chest when James' eyes caught his a moment later. They're hurt, dark and unsure and Scorpius considered apologising for his words but couldn't quell the pure, unhindered anger that boiled under his skin, drowning out thoughts of apologies and calmness. "You wouldn't _have_ a Teddy to spend your days chasing after, catering to his every whim and carrying his baby because he couldn't find a wife able to do it for him. Do you think this will make him _love you_ , James?"

His hands trembled in his lap, balled into tight fists as James looked away. Scorpius wanted him to scream, tell him he was wrong and deny every word Scorpius had said so far. The silence was telling a story Scorpius didn't want to believe and the lone tear that cascaded over James' cheek inflamed him further. 

"You're wrong!" Scorpius' lungs begged for air as he shouted, "If anything, this will make him love _her_ more. They're going to be a family – Teddy, Victoire and the baby. There won't be any room for _you_."

James' dark hair fell over his eyes as he turned away. He whispered something quietly, his lips moving but the words too soft for Scorpius to hear until he looked up, with dark wide eyes and said, "You don't understand."

They were both still, mouths parted and minds fighting to find something to say next. Scorpius was prepared to make James hurt like he did, to take away James' hope. It was only fair, he thought, after James had taken his – beaten his wishes, hopes and dreams into a lonely, endless ache in his chest. All the vicious things he thought to say were swallowed when James stepped toward him, brought himself to their bed, and wrapped his fingers tightly in Scorpius' hair. Scorpius' teeth found his tongue, bit down to keep himself from acknowledging how James' harshness was affecting him. He felt the blood rush from his head, pound through his veins until it settled in his cock, making him hard as his heart continued to beat roughly against his ribs.

"You don't understand," James hissed in his ear, breath hot and lips dry against the sensitive lobe. Sinking his teeth in to the crook of Scorpius' neck, he seemed displeased when Scorpius groaned. "You're _wrong_."

"Wrong about what? The fact that you're not going to be part of their sweet, heterosexual little family?" Scorpius attempted to pull away, fighting slightly as James found the waistband of his pants and yanked them down. Warm hands found his cock, fingers gripped him firmly and his eyes slid shut as his mind and body argued whether to give in to James' advances. The rare display of anger, frustration, annoyance and probably shame – left Scorpius feeling wanton. He loved James in control, making all the right moves and owning him completely. "Do you think of him when you fuck me? Do you imagine it's him beneath you, giving himself up? Big, bad Auror Teddy _begging_ for you?"

James growled against the bruised skin of Scorpius neck. It was exciting to have him riled up – his control lost at the mere mention of Teddy's name and Scorpius wanted to take advantage of it. "That's bullshit and you know it."

"I don't think it is. You do, don't you? Wish I was him?" Scorpius asked, twisting against James' hands when they moved from his cock to his shoulders. They pressed him down into the mattress, holding him still while James pulled back to glare at him.

"Are you getting off on this?"

Refusal to answer didn't always mean agreement, but James seems to think his lack of a disagreement meant otherwise… He bit his tongue when James shook his head and mumbled, "You've gone mad, haven't you? What am I going to do with you? I just wanted –"

It was best that James didn't finish. There was anger still boiling under Scorpius' skin when James moved away, his head still shaking in disappoint or disbelief – maybe even both – and his brown eyes dark as they looked to the window. James sat on the edge of the bed, a tent in his trousers, his body motionless and his hair slightly damp against the pale skin of his neck.

Scorpius didn't want to hear about James' desire for a family of their own, what James wanted and how soon he wanted it. The fairness level in their relationship has been teetering against Scorpius and it had become difficult to ignore how frustrated James' dreams made him at every turn.

"What if I told you I did?" James asked quietly, still seated on the edge of the bed and staring away. His eyes were distant when he turned to Scorpius, as though looking at him but not _seeing_ him. It was the first time Scorpius ever felt so alone in a room with another person – in a room with someone as vibrant, loud and pleasant as James. "If I did, would that surprise you? Is it what you're expecting?"

"Yes." It took a moment for Scorpius to spit out the word. He hoped that the anger was present beneath the three simple letters, that they drenched James' mind with his feelings as he continued. "It's the only thing that makes sense. What else would make you willing to just fucking throw away – "

"I'm not throwing away anything! I'm doing something nice for someone I care for. And I wanted you here with me, to experience it with you so we can – "

"I don't want to. I don't want to experience it with you or to know what it's like. I'm not going to change my – "

James' lips were hot against Scorpius', strong as they pressed together desperately in an attempt to silence him. It was surprising and enthralling and Scorpius' moaned, argument forgotten as James' hands wrapped around his erection and his lips trailed from Scorpius' adam's apple to his collar bone. The roughness of James' lips, the strength of his hand and the desire to remind him of who he was – his body's demand to possess James and allow James to posses him as they once did before Scorpius had known about Teddy Lupin, before Albus Potter had ruined his way of thinking with the shard of doubt he'd planted in Scorpius' mind and before James had gone and proved his younger, bolder, more vicious sibling was right – reminded Scorpius of the intense wrongness of their situation and how much better it could have been.

_"I'll be fair with you..."_

James' fingers were warm against his entrance, his tongue and teeth nipped harshly at Scorpius' neck and when Scorpius gasped, attempting to get lost in the pleasure of being owned, taken and wanted by James, all he could hear was Al's words in his ears. James' breathy sighs, the heat that radiated from his chest when he switched their positions and pulled Scorpius to his lap, and the pleasure that passed through him from the inside out when he finally pressed down onto James' length were all distant – lost in the Albus' whispered words ringing in his mind.

_"...and warn you now that James isn't going to be your boyfriend..."_

Scorpius' fingers curled against James' back, welts rising as his nails dug at olive-coloured skin in hope of holding it for just a moment longer. With every lift of his hips, every stroke James' hand offered his erection, he felt like he was losing more and more. Desperation settled in his chest, ate at his conscience as he lifted himself higher on his knees, pushing himself down faster as he begged James' breathlessly for more.

_"...not really, anyway. Teddy is the only thing that exists in James' world..."_

James' hands grasped his hips, stilled his movements before he pressed Scorpius back on the bed. The sheets were cool under Scorpius' skin and he arched his back at the contact, eyes wide as James hovered above him and asked what exactly he wanted more of.

"...it's been him since the beginning..."

Scorpius wanted more attention so he could show James how much better he was than Teddy could ever hope to be, more care to be reminded that he was the only person James would ever love, more consideration to his feelings to help the uncomfortable pressure that settled in his chest every time James mentioned babies, pets or leaving their comfortable little flat for a cottage in Ottery St. Catchpole like his parents. Most of all, Scorpius wanted more time. He felt the minutes passing with every one of James' thrusts, the warmth inside of him melting away and leaving him with nothing but the feeling of everything coming to an end too soon.

_"...and if you think you're going to change that..."_

"More," Scorpius whispered the strength in his voice long gone and his fingers weakening their hold on James' back. The sense of urgency that had eaten at him before was gone with his frustration and all that was left was the need to claim the final, passing moments. He wanted to remember them as they were now when he woke and not as they were before. Things will never be the same. The doubt he'd fought for so long had won and when James moaned, Scorpius wondered why it doesn't fuel his spirit as it once had.

_"...you're mad."_

He didn't want to hear what James was whispering, how wanton the words may sound or otherwise. "More," Scorpius pleaded, cutting off James as he struggled to dig his fingers into James' shoulders again. Wrapping his legs tighter around James' waist, Scorpius allowed himself to relish into the feeling inside of him – the push and pull, giving and taking and the constant need for _more_ – for the very last time.

_"Remember that when you come to your senses about James..."_

James came with a groan, his breath hot against Scorpius' neck and his teeth sharp against Scorpius' bottom lip. When he pulled away, wrapped Scorpius in his arms and whispered, "I love you, you know?" Scorpius wasn't sure how to answer.

Did he know? Did he _really_ know?

"Of course, James. Of course."

When Scorpius woke hours later, the sky was still dark and the flat was silent. James' arm around his waist pulled him closer, his skin sticky and smelling like autumn air and patchouli. The beat of James' heart was steady against Scorpius' back, calming and unhindered, just the way Scorpius remembered it from years ago. In dreams, James was content – perfect and undeniably beautiful.

Moving free of James' arm, Scorpius stepped away from the bed and gathered his clothes. They were wrinkled and still smelled like snow and Albus but he pulled his trousers up his legs anyway, buttoned the front of his shirt and retrieved a cloak from the wardrobe. He wasn't sure he had the heart to wait, determine a proper choice of clothing for his departure as though it was just another day.

James stirred on the bed, rolling in his sleep as he hands felt for the spot where Scorpius' body should have been but didn't wake when he met cooling sheets and emptiness. The small frown that settled on his lips, the mumbled, 'Scorp' and the way he snuggled closer to his pillow almost convinced Scorpius to undress, return to bed and be happy for what he had and to grieve less over what he never would.

But it wouldn't be fair to anyone – to James, to himself or the child James would carry. There would be a future for them if he stayed, one where they married, had children and lived in the in Ottery St. Catchpole like James wanted. They would eat meals as a family, watch their sons, daughters and grandchildren grow and would grow old themselves. All of it would be a façade, proof of Scorpius' inability to capture James' heart and of James' inability to fall in love with anyone but Teddy.

The door snicked shut behind him, quiet footsteps echoing as he tucked his bare hands in his pockets and allowed the wool to keep him warm. With the pavement under his feet, the street lights on either side of him and a whole world to face, Scorpius walked away.

  


_\- - - -  
{six days at the bottom of the ocean}  
\- - - - -_  


It had been years since Scorpius called Malfoy Manor home. He'd boarded the train at the start of 7th year and had only ever returned for a few hours at a time since. James' flat had became home the day he left school, stepped away from the train for the very last time and found himself in the sporadically decorated two-bedroom flat James called ' _theirs_ '.

Scorpius had promised he'd never return – he'd make his way on his own and leave the Manor, his father's expectations and the weight of his surname behind. In all actuality though, he hadn't done it on his own. He'd had James and they'd made a great team. More than once, their friends had claimed they were the perfect couple and complimented them on their ability to grow and adapt to each other over time. No one knew who they were at seventeen or nineteen, but Scorpius and James had learned each other's patterns and grew with one another. They were understood needing time alone, respected the desires of the other and never went to bed angry.

Over the five years they'd been together, he and James had visited more than thirty countries – taken weekend vacations when things got too stressful and never turned down the opportunity to get away or learn something new about the world. It was exciting, bright and blissful on the best of days and only mildly tiring on the worst. They made love in quiet, peaceful places and had sex in exciting tropic areas where creatures howled in nearby forests and birds sung at all hours of the day and night.

Scorpius couldn't understand why James wouldn't wait for children of their own, a family to take care of and a world of adulthood to face. The beauty of their age was having the choice to wake up on Friday morning, look outside and say, "I want to spend the weekend in Italy" or "Colombia has beautiful rainforests, let's go visit."

James' determination for a family of his own came from his desire to be the first yet again. He'd grown up as the oldest of most of his cousins, always the starting point in the next generation of the Potter family and he aimed to succeed Harry Potter as surely as he could. His excitement at the mention of children and his uncanny awareness of their needs was extraordinary and heart-warming but only when Scorpius imagined it in future-tense, when James' face was firmer, his eyes more knowledgeable and his life more experienced.

Twenty-two and twenty-four respectively, Scorpius and James weren't prepared for children of their own. There was no fear in Scorpius' body of having them, just fear of losing his youth to James' wild desires and eventually James to the world of work, children and home duties.

Six weeks away from England had given Scorpius plenty of time to collect his thoughts, organise his feelings and realise that the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach hadn't been worry or regret for leaving, it was a sign of his life changing forever yet again.

The Mediwitch called it 'miraculous'; announced that she'd never experienced something so extraordinary and wished him congratulations and well wishes more times than he could count. "No signs of having taken even a full dose of the potion," she'd explained, her wand waving to change the litany of words hovering above his body quickly. "It looks like a single dose did the job, dear. And you say you didn't know you'd taken it?"

Scorpius had shaken his head. No, he had no idea that the potion he'd taken on Christmas Eve wasn't the Pepper-Up potion he'd thought it was. It made sense when she explained it, though. Their colours were similar, their bottles the same shape and if it was brewed by a specialist (and all potions worthy of a Malfoy or Potter were) then it probably wouldn't have been labeled, they would have been expected to know themselves.

"Very lucky, you are," she continued beaming. Her smile made Scorpius' cheeks from hurt just looking at it. "I've never seen a case like this. Wizards take a great number of potions alongside this one for a year or more and even then, results aren't guaranteed. You took a single dose of the least powerful one and you succeeded! A miracle is what you're carrying! Not a baby – a miracle!"

Scorpius had raised a brow, shaken his head and announced that 'miracles' and 'accidents' were two very, _very_ different things.

She hadn't had much to say after that. A few quick words suggesting he stay with someone rather than living on his own as he had been, vials of foul-tasting potions she claimed would help the sprog along and a card with her name and address should he need to Floo her for more help.

He'd written to his parents the next day, given them the poor news and said goodbye to the life he'd always dreamed of.

And James, too.

"Hello, darling," his mother greeted from the entrance when he neared. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, eyes bright and knowing as she opened her arms to welcome him. The hug they shared was awkward, stiff and nothing like the embraces the Potters used to offer him at every turn but her smile was kind and quelled his worry. "He's called for you, of course."

Scorpius froze in her hold. Pulling back, his mother left her hands on his shoulders.

"I told him you weren't here," she informed him, leading him inside. The heels of her shoes clicked against the marble with every step, the sound echoing in the silent hall. He missed the soft padding of feet on carpet, the furniture that hardly matched and the open windows of his old home.

Scorpius nodded. "I wasn't, at the time."

She ' _hmm_ 'ed her agreement, fingers still firm against his should as she guided him further. "Indeed. You went to Italy, as I suggested?"

"France, actually; Italy and my stomach weren't agreeing with one another."

"I see."

The dining room was vast, mostly filled with the ornate oak table in the centre and the matching cabinet that housed wine glasses meant for special occasions. Scorpius could only remember using them at dinner with his grandparents, Ministry officials and when he'd brought the Potters home for dinner with his family for the first time.

It had been a nasty affair, unworthy of a repeat attempt. James, at least, had found it entertaining.

His mother pointed to a chair, encouraged him silently to take a seat. She pursed her lips and attempted to look stern as she took the seat across from his. "He expected you would be here. It's been very difficult keeping him away."

"Are you suggesting I should return to France?"

"It's a terrible idea," she announced, sounding mildly aggravated. "You belong at home with your Father and I. He's very... _displeased_ but –"

An aggravated Father – _his_ aggravated Father, to be exact – was expected but unappreciated. In the six weeks Scorpius had been away, he'd received no less than a dozen owls a week from his Father, admonishing him for his poor decision making and ending every letter with a line meaning 'I told you so' without ever saying the words. 'Displeased', Scorpius was sure, was his mother's understatement of the year. Everything Draco Malfoy did, felt and experienced was big and receiving a letter from his 22-year-old son claiming he was with child, single and that the father of said child was half-Potter, half-Weasley most certainly incited a long, loud tirade of curses, insults and rude accusations.

"Don't scowl," his mother stressed. She attempted to press her fingers to smooth the wrinkles in his forehead. "You'll age too quickly if you make such terrible faces. Mister Potter will be taken care of, I assure you. The youngest Mister Potter has been more of a complication..."

At Scorpius' curious glance, his mother gave a short shrug. "An absolute menace," she explained, "and he understands how to twist words, as well. What house was he sorted?"

"Gryffindor," Scorpius answered, rolling his eyes, "but he's every bit as Slytherin as Father is. The hat must have been very confused that night."

His mother smirked slightly, offering him an amused blue stare. "I told him that you weren't home at the time. In turn, he announced that he appreciated my word choice and wanted to know when you'd be arriving." She paused, investigating the room quickly before she whispered, "your Father turned _purple_. He was _furious_. Demanded Mister Potter – "

"Albus," Scorpius corrected. James and Albus both hate being 'Mister Potter', claiming it made them feel like all they were just Harry Potter's sons and not their own separate identities.

" _Albus_ , then – to leave immediately. He even threatened to call the Aurors."

"Mister Potter – Harry, their dad – is Head of the Auror Office."

"Yes," replied his mother, smirking again, "Albus told him, very snootily, in fact. Strange to hear that tone of voice from a Weasley, you must be very close friends."

Scorpius gave his mother a brief look of disbelief. "I hardly know Albus. We're not... _friends_."

His mother had always been very skilled in masking her emotions, hiding her feelings from the world and only offering knowledge of her deeper thoughts to those she held very close. When the flash of surprise flickered in her eyes, Scorpius felt his lungs tighten uncomfortably in shock. The single slip – the first he'd ever seen – was unsettling.

"Very strange, then," she murmured, feigning interest in the peacocks that wandered past the windows. "James has asked for you daily, told us to let you know he wanted to make things better –"

Scorpius' heart clenched, his stomach dropped to his lap and his eyes looked away. He suddenly didn't feel like conversing There was a bed waiting for him upstairs, the same one he'd slept in when he was a child and he longed to return to the simplicity of the life he'd then, if only for the rest of the afternoon.

"– and that he missed you. Albus was the exact opposite, really. No kind words, just refusal to leave until we told him more. He's a very unnerving young man... Very much the way I remember Harry Potter when he was determined."

"We'll take care of this," she assured him after a moment of silence. Her hands were cool when they grasped his loosely though her eyes were determined and strong. "You and the child will be fine, I promise you."

Promises from his mother were rare and always guaranteed. He knew her words were never to be taken lightly and he'd learned at a very early age that if anyone in the world was to be believed in, it was his mother.

"James can't know," Scorpius said. He hoped it didn't sound as though he was pleading. It was a silly hope to keep this a secret from someone as popular and well-liked as James is. Even without the last name, people would have still adored James for his friendly disposition, his quirky (occasionally outlandish) sense of humour and his ability to see the best in anyone and everyone. If it hadn't been for James' open-mindedness, ability to face everything head-on and his pride, he and Scorpius would have never been a couple.

James had come to him, shaken his hand after the annual Ravenclaw vs. Gryffindor match and told him that he'd never played against anyone with half of Scorpius' skill. Then, the bold Gryffindor mess that James was, he'd pressed his lips against Scorpius' and murmured, "I've wanted to do that for _years_."

He had wormed his way into the hearts of others almost the very same way – minus the kiss, which was Scorpius' alone. There was nothing too big or too small for James to share with someone – a story to tell or a compliment to give. He could never be too old to cheer on a first year or too famous to socialise with Hogwarts' pariahs.

There wasn't a person in the world that had a reason to dislike James.

Except Scorpius.

His mother's eyes were dark and clear as the crystal. In a rare display of her affection for him, she said, "Silly boy, I have no idea what you're speaking of. James, who?"

  


_\- - - - -  
{lonely train}  
\- - - - -_  


Mobiles were one of the Muggles more ingenious inventions. It hadn't taken long for Wizards and Witches alike to realise their methods of passing messages had become archaic in the modern world. Letters took time and owls took even longer. The Floo worked wonders when people were at home in the evenings but on days where mothers shopped for food and fathers left their offices late the Floo was hardly a source one could rely on.

A mobile combined with the magical means of the ever-popular two-way mirror became a huge hit less than a year after Padma and Parvati Patil designed them. They were stylish and easy to use, perfect for every witch and wizard, and Scorpius didn't know a single person who lived without one.

Accepting or declining a ring was simple. Standard jingles were often replaced with popular music and when one heard the familiar notes of their favourite song, they merely looked down at the glass, saw whose face was peering blankly back at them and pressed the 'answer' or 'decline' button at the bottom of the frame to decide.

Scorpius' fingers found the 'decline' button more often than the 'answer' button. His Muggle song of choice filled his room, woke him from his sleep or attracted his attention away from his book. When he saw James' tired brown eyes in the mirror, his finger always tapped the little red box before he returned to what he was doing before. Sometimes he found himself considering the 'accept' button, talking to James and allowing him to be convinced to come back. He couldn't call their old flat 'home' any more. Malfoy Manor had taken the title back in the three months Scorpius had been back and the little flat in London had become something akin to a fuzzy, warmth-filled memory in the back of Scorpius' mind.

His mother informed him that he had more than himself to think about now, that being a parent – even an unexpected one – meant that he had to realise that James' feelings for him would reflect on his child. Would James care for the tiny being and love it the way she assured Scorpius he will learn to? Or would he resent the little piece of magic he and Scorpius created for being the final proof that James and Teddy would never be _JamesandTeddy_?

Evenings with his father didn't help to ease his worries. Social events kept his mother busy and though she always departed with a worried, "Do make use of the time, boys. Scorpius, ask your father how his day was. Draco, ask your son how he's been feeling. Don't be so stiff!" neither dared to look in the direction of the other. They finished their meals in silence and went to their rooms with no words shared between them.

One day, when Scorpius was lost in thoughts of change, the future and the past, he felt the sudden lurch in his stomach and the impulsive need to _run_. The mirror in his pocket vibrated, a familiar beat filling the loo as he rushed through the door and fell to his knees before the toilet. With one hand on the edge, holding him still as his breakfast reintroduced itself to the world he reached into his pocket with the other hand and retrieved the vibrating mirror to toss it across the floor. There wasn't much strength left in his body to be shocked when a voice drifted strangely from the discarded glass in the corner.

"Finally answered, did you? Figures you'd answer for me. James has been in a foul mood since you left, you know?"

The arrogant tone was a staple of Albus Potter, making him easy to identify before even looking into the mirror. Scorpius' stomach lurched at the thought, his food shifting uncomfortably before he found himself bending forward over the toilet once more.

"Are you sicking up? I usually invoke strong feelings in people – good, bad, sexual – but no one has ever sicked up over answering for me. You're a first."

At any other point in time, Scorpius might have offered Albus a glower to cover his amusement or made a scathing remark about finding it very hard to believe that anyone could feel anything sexual toward a younger version of the Head Auror but his esophagus burned, his lungs were tight and he wasn't brave enough to move for the mirror just yet.

"Am I really staring at the ceiling of your loo? Merlin, my entire flat is probably worth less than those tiles."

It had been weeks since Scorpius felt like laughing and for a moment, he found it incredibly strange that the same person who ruined the beautiful, jaded future he'd once planned with James was the person who was easing the tightness in his chest and making laughter bubble in his throat.

"Piss off," Scorpius managed, easing himself away from the toilet to grip the discarded mirror. Albus' hair was a mess, scattered in all directions as though he woke up, rolled over and rung Scorpius to say 'good morning' at noon. His eyes were curious, verdant and shockingly bright as he said, "You look like absolute _shit_. I've never seen anything so hideous and that says a lot. I play for fucking _Ballycastle_ , after all. My mates told me the birds there were ugly and I laughed them off, but you've never seen ugly until you've been there. _Really_."

Scorpius had been to more than one Ballycastle game with James. They'd sat amongst other players' family and friends and he hadn't noticed anything strange about them. He supposed it was Albus' attempt at a joke so he scowled as he usually would. "Is that all you wanted?"

Shrugging on the other side of the mirror, Albus replied, "I wanted to see if you were dead for myself. Now I know the rumours were false. You're _dying_ , not _dead_ ; stupid reporters, yeah?"

"I'm neither." Scorpius prepared to finish with 'I'm pregnant' but realised his mistake before he made it. "I had a poorly prepared meal for breakfast. Now, leave me be."

"How about we get together?" Albus asked, ignoring the brow Scorpius raised and the glare he gave the mirror. "Go have tea in Diagon, yeah? I won't tell James I saw you; I know you're mad about the thing with Teddy and I can't blame you. I'd want space, too. We'll meet up, have some – "

At the mention of food alone, Scorpius covered his mouth and turned back to the toilet. Morning sickness, he decided as he sputtered again, was the strangest thing he'd ever experienced. It rarely hit him in the morning, always came suddenly and _never_ happened over anything remotely disgusting. _Food_ , really?

"What is wrong with you?" The chipped pieces of mirror glistened on the floor, scattered about messily from Scorpius' rush to the toilet. There was a crack through Albus' face, a jagged line marring the reflection as he shifted for a better view in the glass. "You're acting like a fucking pregnant – "

Albus paused and Scorpius was sick again. He had never taken any of the Potters for fools, Albus least of all. His secret was crumbling, breaking apart beneath his feet and dragging him down with the pieces.

"Bloody _fucking_ hell! That's why you've gone and run away, isn't it?"

"Shut up!" The attempted scream toward the mirror on the floor came out as little more than an abused whisper. "I'm not –"

"I'm coming to the Manor. You're going to answer the door, understand?"

The mirror flashed a white screen, deep grey lines curling to form the word 'end' before it cleared to its usual mirror state. Scorpius lifted it gently, staring at his cracked reflection in the glass and wondered when things had become so complicated. Hadn't he considered rolling out of bed in the morning the most difficult point in his day not too long ago?

His hands found the gentle curve his stomach had become and he pressed his fingers against the distended skin, quelling the worry that settled there. There was movement, slight but present, beneath his palm and his distress faded slightly.

"Don't worry," he told himself, "I'll just have to be the first Malfoy to fool a Potter."

  


_\- - - - -  
{first breath after the coma}  
\- - - - - _  


It didn't take much to convince Albus to keep quiet. In all reality, it hadn't taken anything at all. He'd scoffed when Scorpius suggested he'd tell James, fixed him with a dark look and said, "My brother and I see things very differently. You're a fool if you think I'm going to toddle home and give him a ring with the news."

Two months later with still no word from James, Scorpius realised that Albus had been honest as any true Gryffindor should be. He agreed to meet him again in Diagon Alley, smiled slightly at Albus' mirror image before the ending the conversation and prepared for a day out with the world.

His mother worried over his hair and adjusted his robes as Scorpius attempted to move past her. When her fingers pressed the key of her Gringotts account into his hand, she said, "Buy something for the baby while you're there! A treat from Grandmother Astoria to her first grandchild."

"Your _only_." Scorpius pushed her hands away. "I won't be buying anything. I'm having lunch – " He paused, suddenly conscious of her curious eyes and the slight smile playing at her lips. "– alone."

"Of course, Scorpius." She slipped the key in his pocket anyway. "Take that just in case you see something while you're eating – _alone_."

Allowing the key to stay, he promised himself not to use it and made his way through the Floo. The lurch jostled him, took his breath away for a moment and when he finally settled himself against the bricks of the dusty hearth, he was uncomfortable and weary. Transportation was difficult and Scorpius vowed to never put himself in a situation like that again. Once was more than enough.

Scorpius paused outside the door of Flourish and Blotts, watching as a pregnant witch passed him. The book of baby names in her hand seemed to be the key to her excitement. She smiled brightly, waving the heavy paperback in her hand as she spoke. She was rounder than he was, not hidden under a cloak and content as she walked with her friends. It wasn't easy to relate to her enthusiasm or the glow of her pride. He thought that maybe he'd be more open to the idea if he bought a book as well – made the situation more _real_ , less like a dream he was destined to wake up from soon.

When a familiar voice drifted into the children and pregnancy section, Scorpius realised the book had been a very bad idea. He turned the corner quickly, bumping into the bookshelf as he moved and trained his ears on the jingling bell of the door, letting it guide him to escape. It was his focus on leaving that created his demise. The hard body he bumped into was tall, lean and had Seeker-worthy reflexes that saved him from a dangerous tumble to the floor. Hands on his waist, steadying him as he righted himself, were wide and warm even through his cloak. The sudden rush in his veins told him what a poor position he was in before he even dared to look up and confirm it.

"Scorp?"

It was a childish thing to call him. His name was only three syllables long and was pronounced just like it was spelled. It may not have been as simple as 'James' or 'Lily', but it was a name to be proud of. James always shortened it, claiming it was his right as Scorpius' boyfriend to call him whatever pet name he liked most.

'Scorp' was his favourite. It was James' and James' alone.

Scorpius didn't answer, opting to act as though he was completely unaware of whose hands were wrapped around his waist. James' hands were dangerously close to the fluttering life hidden beneath his cloak and jumper and his breath caught for a moment. He said, "Sorry to have bumped into you in my rush" and acted surprised when he glanced up to James' face.

It had been too long.

"Your parents didn't say you'd come back," James announced. The irritation in his voice was heavy. "Your mother promised she would. I've been trying to –"

Scorpius shook his head, stepping away from James' hands. He didn't miss when James' eyes settled on his midsection, confusion swirling behind his brown eyes. "I've been very busy," Scorpius explained, pleased when James looked up, "and so have they. I'm sure it just slipped her mind."

"Nothing slips your mother's mind."

It was true. She was a strict planner, knew the perfect place for everything and never forgot even the smallest details.

"Very busy," Scorpius repeated, "and so am I. It was nice to –"

Missing Teddy in the busiest of places was difficult. In a small, practically empty shop like Flourish and Blotts on a Thursday afternoon, it was impossible. His hair was black, shockingly dark against his pale skin and his bright blue eyes of the day. "Scorp! It's been awhile, mate! Been alright?"

Scorpius swallowed difficultly. The friendliness of the scene before him – Teddy just behind James, head cocked to the side questioningly and the sudden ease in James' stance – was uncomfortable and Scorpius' desperation to get away increased ten-fold.

James' eyes flickered south again, focused on the slight bulge Scorpius' cloak left visible to the world. To any passerby, he looked as though he'd eaten one too many biscuits but to James, who knew his body better than Scorpius himself, it was a new, foreign bump in a very telling area.

"Are you – ?"

"This is where the hell you got off to? I should have known, you swotty ponce. Can't keep you still to save my life, can I?"

Scorpius breathed a sigh of relief, too lost in the excitement of being saved from James' questioning by Albus Potter's sudden arrival to argue when Albus' arm made itself at home around his waist. It was warm and possessive, a very intimate gesture that James didn't miss. While James was tall and lanky, thin against Scorpius' side and always towered above him. Albus was different – built with more solid material than his brother, still taller than Scorpius but not so much that Scorpius didn't fit strangely against Albus' side.

In fact, Scorpius realised that he and Albus fit oddly perfect next to each other.

"James, Ted, how're you both?"

Albus pushed past the awkward silence, filling the space between them with a sharp smile and a knowing glance in Scorpius' direction. He caught it from the corner of his eye but didn't acknowledge it. James' eyes were trained on him. They watched as Albus' thumb rubbed slow circles against his side and occasionally James' eyes would break to stare at the bump in Scorpius' robes. Scorpius wasn't sure what to say, how to react or when would be an appropriate time to say, "Well, Albus and I were meeting for tea so we should go..."

Teddy grinned, his smile lopsided and not entirely sure. "Good, Al. How about yourself?"

Albus offered James a cross between and smirk and a grin. "Meeting Scorpius for lunch, actually; lost him in Diagon on the way there. We should be on our way, shouldn't we?"

The question was clearly Scorpius' to answer but James opened his mouth first, stepping forward to grip Scorpius' wrist tightly as he attempted to pull him away. "Come with me," James said, shooting Albus a dark look before looking back to Scorpius. His expression turned from angry to pleading in a single, flashing moment and his eyes were almost too beautiful to deny. "We'll talk. I'll make things right."

He whispered the last part, too quiet for Teddy but audible to Albus who laughed wickedly. "Haven't told Teddy what really happened? Can't say I'm surprised," he said. "You always were a sad excuse for a Gryffindor when it came to being brave."

Scorpius disagreed. He'd always found James' lack of outward fear exciting. If it hadn't been for James' courage, he and Scorpius likely never would have been a couple. A Ravenclaw understood likely versus unlikelihood and though he'd weighted the pros and cons of reaching out to James himself, he'd never dared to try. James had though, and it had been one of the many reasons Scorpius had adored him as much as he had.

Even at the very end – their last night together – James had been brave to agree to something so special for Teddy and Victoire, he'd been even braver to agree without consulting anyone else first. The definition of a Gryffindor, James had jumped in and put everything at stake for someone important.

Only that time, it hadn't worked out as he'd planned.

"Shut up, Albus," James said scathingly. He frowned, a look anyone who didn't know of his soft heart would find scary.

Albus knew better. "Fuck off, James."

Pulling his hand free, Scorpius fought James as he returned his hand to his pocket and turned to leave. "I'm very busy," he explained again. "I just don't have the time for petty promises."

"Plenty of time for my brother, though?"

Albus' arm tightened around Scorpius' side. It was tight and uncomfortable, enough to make him fidget just a little. He supposed to anyone else, he'd look like he didn't like being caught when, in reality James had it wrong – so, so wrong.

James scowled again, the expression ugly on his usually delighted face. Scorpius was sure he'd never seen him so angry – so _hurt_. "I imagine it's Albus', then? You weren't willing to try with me, but you're willing to give him –"

"Mind your own fucking business." Albus' interruption silenced James and Albus took the silence moment to shake his head and give him brother a look of disgust. "You have no room to judge anyone, you tosspot. Aren't you on a date? Go back to it."

Teddy – ever the fair, quiet one – stood silently. He watched the encounter but held his tongue. Scorpius' eyes found his fleetingly, settled on the blue orbs and the pity he saw in Teddy's gaze was disgusting, depressing and telling all at once.

It wasn't difficult to remember a time in James and Scorpius' relationship where Teddy hadn't dominated their every decision. At Hogwarts, when Teddy was hours away rarely answered James' owls, Scorpius had been James' world. They'd spent hours in each other's common rooms, shared secret smiles across the Great Hall and hid in classrooms and broom cupboards late in the evening, exploring themselves and each other as no one else ever had before. Scorpius always thought he'd been lucky to have found love the first time – to have escaped heartbreak and all the messy business that came with it. He'd fallen in love with James' easygoing smiles, his assuredness and his desire to be the very best he could be. James had big dreams, warm arms and sweet lips that left Scorpius breathless, delighted and needing more.

They'd had plans then – lots of them. James wanted to follow in his father's footsteps, Scorpius wanted to focus on International Law and together, they'd planned to change the world forever. It hadn't been hard to fall in love with someone who wanted the same things and Scorpius had loved James more than those three words could ever describe. The tiny voice in the back of his head, always whispering but never _speaking_ , had been a constant reminder of Albus' warning. There had been promises broken, trust defeated and every argument James and Scorpius seemed to have had involved Teddy in some way.

At one point, there was nothing Scorpius wouldn't have given James. He hadn't traveled like he'd always planned, wanting to come home to James, their tiny flat and their bed in the evenings despite the desire to go travel somewhere – anywhere – that clawed within him every day. They spent holidays with James' family, followed all of James' parents' advice and rarely spent weekends without some member of the Weasley or Potter clan on their sofa, eating their food and hogging their telly. But Scorpius had never complained. For James, it had all been worth it.

Now, though, after having sacrificed so much, Scorpius wasn't willing to sacrifice his child to James, too. He didn't want a future wrapped in petty promises of change, revolved around James' wishes and the future James planned. Scorpius didn't want to face a child that was second to Teddy in James' eyes. He understood how it felt to be second in the heart of someone you loved – who you adored and were willing to give up everything for.

Their child deserved better but if James were to find out, there would be little hope for keeping him away. There was no doubt in Scorpius' mind that James would love the baby that moved slightly under his palm in the evenings while he read or did flips in the early hours of the morning when Scorpius would rather be asleep. It wasn't the kind of love worthy of a child – the kind where their needs come second to everyone else's, where the decisions of others changed his or her life forever. Scorpius was willing and _wanted_ to make the baby his top priority in his life – the reason he woke up in the morning. He wanted to teach his child things, show them the world and be the person they came to when they needed advice.

James wanted to spend afternoons in Flourish and Blotts with Teddy, give up his future and his past for Teddy and sacrifice Scorpius in the process of all of it. Scorpius scowled at the thought, shot an irritated look at Teddy before offering James a similar glare. He missed him, what they had been and what they could have been but more than anything, he missed the James he'd had before Teddy.

It was hard to long for someone who was only a shell of what they used to be.

"Come on," Albus prompted. He guided Scorpius past James and Teddy, out the door and onto the busy street. It wasn't until he stepped outside, felt the slight chill of the autumn wind on his face and moved to hide his hands in his pockets that he noticed the book of baby names still clutched desperately in his fingers.

He contemplated throwing it aside, angered that it hadn't been the bulge that had given him away but the damn book he'd gone into the store for to begin with. Deciding against it, he pulled the book close to his side and walked away, thinking there was nowhere else he'd rather be than in bed, reading a list of names to decide which he would name his child.

The child James had always hoped for but would never truly have.

  


_\- - - - -  
{an ugly fact of life}  
\- - - - -_  


"What if he looks like James?" Scorpius asked as he leaned back into his pillows, flipping to the next ear-marked page of his baby names book. He passed Adora, pondered the way it sounded in his mind and then on his lips.

"Adora is pretty," Albus announced from the end of his bed. Stretched out on his stomach with Quidditch magazine in hand, he almost looked as though he belonged in Malfoy Manor; lying in Scorpius' bed and pondering baby names. "And if he looks like James, we'll follow James' suspicions and say it's mine."

Scorpius eyes paused on the meaning of Alva. He didn't dare look up. "What?"

The scoff Albus gave him was loud and annoyed. "We'll tell everyone the baby is mine. I'm not sure how things worked in Ravenclaw, but Gryffindor honour says I have to protect my friends. It'll be easy to explain ginger hair and brown eyes if it's half mine, yeah? That's not my colouring, but it's in the genetic pool so it's a believable enough story."

"James has been dropping hints about it at family dinners for the last three months anyway," Al continued. Pausing, his eyes flickered to the mound Scorpius once called his abdomen before he reached to press his palm against the warm, stretched skin. It had taken weeks for Scorpius to feel comfortable with Albus touching him so freely, reaching over whenever he felt the urge to. "We'll tell them I seduced you in your moment of weakness, fell in love with the little sprog when it was born and decided to make you a proper Lady Potter."

"Shut up." Scorpius' scowl didn't quite reach his eyes. The kick under Al's palm was sharp and he sighed uncomfortably. "Alva means 'the blonde one'. I won't be able to call her that if she's a ginger. Not to mention, James isn't even a true ginger. His hair is more auburn than –"

"I don't want to talk about James."

Pausing, Scorpius went back to his book. He was embarrassed, ashamed to have brought up the single person they agreed not to talk about – the one who brought them together and still kept them so far apart. Albus had become the best friend Scorpius had needed – a constant source of humour, comfort and reliability that Scorpius had begun to survive off of. The emotions Albus showed him ran deep, left little room for denial and on more than one occasion, Scorpius had been forced to turn him away, tell him to leave and beg him to understand that he could never be to Al what he had once been to James. Al could never be what James had been to him, either.

It was a strain on their already teetering friendship.

"I like Eerin for a girl," Al said a moment later, easing the silence that settled around them. He smiled at the page of his magazine, nothing but motionless text that clearly hadn't brought upon the sudden rush of happiness. "It's not Latin but it's pretty, yeah? Means 'small grey owl'. Fitting for our world, all things considered."

"Spell it."

Albus glanced up, looking at Scorpius with confusion. "E-e-r-i-n."

"Where did you hear it?" It was a sweet name, fitting for a pretty girl with Malfoy hair and James' brown eyes.

Shrugging, Al said, "In Third Year someone wrote me a note – I can't even remember who, now – and said she'd like to marry me and name our children Eerin and Henry. I thought, _'not a chance in hell'_ , but Eerin stuck with me."

"You should save it for yourself," Scorpius suggested with a smile. "Name your daughter Eerin."

"I thought we just agreed that she's going to be mine." Al returned to his magazine, acting as though he hadn't seen the disbelieving look Scorpius had given him. "And when did we decide she's going to be a _she_? What if she's a _he_?"

"We didn't –"

The bed dipped as Albus stood, rising to his feet and running a hand through his messy hair. He adjusted his shirt, pulling it down to cover the flash of the taught muscles of his stomach. "I've got dinner with my parents tonight. They wanted you to come along –"

"No."

"– but I told them you've been busy getting ready for the baby." Al paused to meet Scorpius' eyes. Nervous tension gathered in his chest. He wondered what they'd said about him since he'd left, what had been implied and what secrets James had shared. Ignoring James' mirror rings, the constant owls that pecked at his windows and the numerous times James' frustrated voice had sounded from the entrance hall had been difficult but he doubted James had relayed the entire truth to his family. Scorpius was sure that Albus wasn't denying James' accusations, letting him believe that the baby that shifted under Scorpius' hand right then was indeed Albus'. He wasn't sure if he appreciated it or wanted Albus to start denying the falsehood. It bothered him when he thought of hurting James that way. At the same time, he wasn't quite prepared to welcome James as the permanent fixture he'd want to be if he discovered the real truth.

And, really, Albus' idea was ingenious – more fitting of a Ravenclaw (or a Slytherin), then a Gryffindor. The best way to explain Potter-like features was to be honest and inform the world that the baby _was_ a Potter.

An entirely different Potter, but one nonetheless.

"Don't make that face," Al complained, mocking Scorpius' drawn brows and frowning lips. "I'll be 'round next week, yeah?"

Scorpius nodded.

Albus' hair was always ruffled and wind-blown, dark and slightly longer then James'. His lips were more bow-shaped and slightly chapped when he leaned down, pressed them to Scorpius' and murmured, "Fuck James. Consider the offer, alright?"

It wasn't the first time Albus has kissed him out of the blue but Scorpius' heart paused, curious and shocked before it began to beat rapidly again against his ribs again; excited by the change and the feeling of new pair of lips on his. Al was gone with a wink. He disappeared in a swirl of Apparition before Scorpius collected his thoughts enough to be voice his surprise.

Excitement at the feeling of being cared for and appreciated pulsed through his veins. To be on the opposite end of Albus' warm gazes, his friendly smiles and the easy way he reached out and let his fingers explore anything and everything was something Scorpius wasn't sure he'd ever be willing to give up. Al had a way of making him think of James less and less. He talked about world issues and had opinions Scorpius would have never imagined him capable of. Foreign Policy was even one of Albus' greater interests and he and Scorpius debated the finer details over tea in Diagon Alley and in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor on weekdays.

More than anything, though, Albus' actions were unsettling. Al's plan was great in theory, but Scorpius couldn't imagine a life based on such a big lie. How could he sit on the Potters' sofa, watch his child make friends with James' children and call him 'Uncle James' in a few years? Could he ever fall in love with Albus, give him all the care and consideration that Al had given him? Or would Scorpius spend the rest of his life waking up in bed and wondering what life would have been like if he'd gone back to James?

And there was always the option of choosing _neither_.

_'I have a feeling,'_ Scorpius thought, glancing down at his rounded stomach, _'that when you arrive in four months' time, I still won't know quite what to do.'_

  


_\- - - - -  
{the sky above, the field below}  
\- - - - -_  


Scorpius wasn't quite sure what happened until he looked up from the vomit-covered boots before him and found James' face. Suddenly he wasn't in the Atrium, surrounded by other robed figures. His father was no longer at his side, no longer preparing Scorpius for his meeting with the Minister of Magic the following afternoon. There was grass under his feet, a bright wide sky stretching for miles above him and James standing a few feet away him with a nervous smile that Scorpius remembered all too well.

"There are _laws_ and _spells_ against Apparating people out of the Ministry." Scorpius swallowed, holding down the bile that threatened to rise as he took a step away. "We won't mention that it's _dangerous_ to an unborn child."

"Sorry." James spoke quickly, his eyes following Scorpius' hand as it met his distended stomach. "I wasn't thinking –"

Scorpius scoffed. " _Clearly._ "

James' hair was shorter, trimmed close around his ears though his fringe was still longer in the front, hanging slightly askew across his forehead and drawing attention to his eyes when he spoke. The dark brown orbs that found Scorpius then were the most expressive thing on James – more telling than his smiles, his words and his body language. A person could see right through James with a single glance past long, dark lashes. There was concern lingering in them at that moment, swimming in the sea of other more subtle emotions – disappointment, frustration and sadness among them.

Warmer than usual for July, Scorpius wanted to remove his cloak to quell the stifling feeling of having it on but wasn't willing to reveal himself to James. He was proud that he'd made it seven months without his secret getting out. Scorpius knew there were rumours; that Albus had yet to deny James' accusations of getting his long-time boyfriend up the duff after "one little argument" but James, despite the fighting with Albus and the lovelorn expression he wore around the Ministry, seemed to be doing just fine.

Calm filled Scorpius tinged only by the swift bit of sadness that lanced the moment and reminded him that James was doing well without him while, for the longest time, Scorpius hadn't been doing as well without James. He'd spent some time with his disappointment, some time with his shame and a lot of time with his anger but none of them had taken long to fade into the indifference he struggled to hold on to then.

"Is it a boy or a girl?" James' eyes hadn't left Scorpius' stomach, focused on the roundness under thin layers of black wool. "You know by now, right?"

Scorpius turned away to watch the ripples on the lake beside them. James' reflection shimmered in and out of view, changing with every moment until it was hard to tell if it was James at all. Rather fitting, Scorpius thought, for James' image to be the unclear one. The difference in James' stance was visible and the frustration that rolled off of him was stronger than before, more serious as though he'd experienced changes much like Scorpius' own. But none of those were promises of a better James – a James worth returning to.

Behind them, there seemed to be miles of wood and green earth. Untouched by civilization, pure of human destruction and more magnificent than nearly anything Scorpius had ever seen. "Where are we?"

"Ottery St. Catchpool. The house I wanted to build was going to go right here, at the edge of the lake." James turned. Raising his arms to point to the hill behind him, Scorpius caught a glimpse of the distance in his eyes – as though James was speaking but not feeling, struggling to keep his concentration on where they were and not wherever his mind may have been. "My grandparents live just past there. I used to come down and play in the water during family dinners when I was younger. I hated being around so many gingers at once."

"You're half ginger," Scorpius reminded James coolly. The affronted look he was given in response earned a smile. "Albus told me you were a menace as a child, always getting someone else in trouble – or yourself, I heard you did a fair bit of that, too."

He didn't realise his mistake until it was too late. The light in James' eyes faded, a shadowy presence taking its space at the mention of Albus' name. It wasn't intentional – not meant to hurt him – and Scorpius often forgot the role James assumed Al played in his very rare situation. James schooled his features quickly, righting himself as he said, "Yeah, I was pretty bad. I didn't start acting decent until I fell in love with you."

In their five years, Scorpius had shared a lot of secrets with James. In return, James had shared a great number of his own secrets with him. One thing neither ever mentioned was when they'd realised their relationship was something greater – something more than teenage adoration. In the year they'd spent apart – Scorpius still in Hogwarts and James in Auror training – they'd exchanged at least an owl a day and had written things neither would have been brave enough to say in person. Even then, James had never said when he fell in love with Scorpius, when their quick smiles in the hallway had becoming something he _needed_ rather than wanted or when he'd started working hard to impress Scorpius because he didn't think he could be without him.

He refused to look away from the ripples of the lake and the reeds that swayed slightly in his peripheral vision. It was still too hot and James' admission wasn't helping ease the tension in his back. Scorpius told himself that his troubled breathing was from the oppressive heat and not the way James' fingers were twitching at his side, the same nervous habit Al had when he wanted to reach forward and caress Scorpius' stomach, feel the movement of the child beneath.

"I was in Fourth Year. We were in Hogsmeade and I said something to Al about... I can't even remember what I'd said –"

"You said he was probably Death Eater spawn; that he'd been Polyjuiced from birth to look like your dad. Harry Potter's hero complex would allow that, after all." Scorpius remembered. He could easily recall the smile that had crossed James' lips, the words James spoke and the way his stomach had plummeted there in the middle of Hogsmeade. He'd been ashamed, felt the heat rise into his face and had trekked back to Hogwarts alone, wishing for the very first time he had a new name – something pure and untainted by a history he hadn't even been part of.

"Right." It was an awkward moment between them. James shoved his hands in the pockets of his robes, glancing to Scorpius fleetingly as he did. A ripple ran across the surface of the lake, water lapping at the edge and James invited Scorpius to sit with a nod to a dry spot in the grass. When they were both seated, distance between them strange after having known each other for so long – after sharing all that they had – James said, "I thought it was something like that. You looked so beautiful – heartbroken, but beautiful – and I wanted to make it up to you right after. I didn't even know you from anything more than passing you in the halls and as Draco Malfoy's son, but I knew right then that I loved you. You became my... Well, my everything, I suppose."

The timing was awful. A story of that magnitude was meant to be shared by two people in love, who live happily and didn't have a grey cloud hanging over them when they were together – who weren't awkwardly sitting at the edge of a lake they were meant to live together on in the future.

Scorpius had loved James despite the incident in Hogsmeade. He'd respected the way James had grown over the two years between then and the day he'd kissed Scorpius on the Quidditch field, sweaty, lanky and warm. He'd grown by then, settled into an adult rather than the boy he'd been and even Scorpius couldn't deny that there was something pressing on his heart, urging him forward much the same way he'd felt the first day James' lips had met him. The last time he'd felt this way for James, he'd turned down a position in the Belgian Ministry to stay near him. The choice had nearly ended his relationship with his father permanently. His father had voiced his disagreement loudly, ranting about how Scorpius' choices were going to affect his life in the long run.

His father had been right, of course. He usually was in a strange way – as though he'd used all his foolish choices as a teenager and was only left with endless amounts of wisdom.

"He's a boy." It was a secret he hadn't shared. His parents and Albus were still unaware but he felt comfortable telling James as he watched the water, the slight shiver of the grass and the birds as they soared overhead. It was a picturesque scene, a perfect place to build a home and give children the kind of life most only dreamed of. There was a stab of disappointment in his chest, a loss he didn't quite understand after telling himself so many times that that wasn't what he wanted. No house in Ottery St. Catchpool, no family at such an early age – he'd turned James down more times than he could count, used more excuses than he'd known he could create. All of the time he'd wasted trying to get out of having to sit at the edge of this very place and imagine a future that he didn't think he wanted.

Now, he wished he would have given James the time he'd asked – come and seen the lake before, fallen in love just a little sooner...

It was future that could very well be his if he were willing to sacrifice being the first person in James' life, if he were willing to give up hope of ever being loved so completely that his partner saw no one but him in a crowded room of people.

"I'm going to name him Easton."

He nodded when James replied, "I like the name Easton."

Easton had always been James' favourite name. He was sure it hurt – having a name you wanted to give to your first-born stolen by an ex-lover, the only person in the world who knew about your family dreams, and given to a child that wasn't yours. But Scorpius' had loved the name Easton too and wasn't willing to give it up. No matter how much it may have hurt James, Scorpius couldn't think of a better way to connect them – a son with a name James chose, a boy who'd look just like him but would grow up with no knowledge of his existence.

"I'm sorry."

James nodded and silence held them both still, left them with nothing but the grass beneath them, the sky above them, the past behind them and the future before them. It was a comfortable quiet, the sound of settling and moving forward. Scorpius thought that if there would ever been a time to come clean, it was right then.

His lips parted, prepared to speak but his tongue refused to move.

"Is he mine?"

The want in James' voice was heavy, warm and Scorpius' heart lurched at the sound. He repeated the question in his head over and over, remembering that same voice in his ear late at night, thanking him for completing James' world, for being everything he was and everything James could ever need. It was the same voice he missed, the adoration and the familiarity he's longed for.

When he shook his head, he wished they were still where they once had been, when Scorpius hadn't feared telling James the truth and had loved the idea of forever with James.

"No, James. He's not yours; he's no ones."

He told himself it wasn't a lie.

  
_\- - - - -  
{trembling hands}  
\- - - -_  


When Scorpius arrived back home, the entirety of the Auror Department seemed to be standing in his entrance hall. Mister Potter was at the centre of it all, hands overflowing with paperwork and attempting to concentrate over Scorpius' father screaming accusations and demanding to speak to his superiors. "I want the Minister of Magic himself!"

Every red-robed Auror in the room watching their Head shake his head tiredly. Mister Potter replied, "Malfoy, if you don't _sit down_ and _back off_ , I won't be able to do anything at all. I'm more than qualified to find your son. My entire department is standing here –"

"Where's _your_ son, Potter?" his father questioned. All eyes focused on him, no one noticing Scorpius himself standing round and clearly present in the threshold of the room. Mister Potter's eyes darkened behind his glasses, deep emerald turning dark moss as his fingers clenched the paperwork in his hands hard enough to tear the edges. If any temper was bad enough to match a Malfoy's, it was a Potter's. His father doesn't seem to care, though, riskily continuing, "He never seems to be around when he's needed, is he? Strange that Scorpius is missing at the same time as your useless, reckless, cheating, lying–"

It was Albus who looked away from them first. The only person in the room aside from his parents without an Auror cloak on, Scorpius' admired him in his dirty Quidditch garb, sweat on his brow and dark hair plastered to his face when he turned. His eyes grew wide, relief etching into every pore of his face as he exclaimed, "Scorpius!" and rushed forward.

There were hands on every inch of his body – his mother's, his father's and Albus' all reaching for whatever bit of him they could get hold of while inspecting him for injury, unable to believe he was in perfect condition.

"Who took you?" his father demanded, voice rough and hands tight on his shoulders. "I was right there – right beside you and I –" His eyes found something just behind Scorpius' shoulder and his worried frown was replaced by a furious growl. " _You._ "

The hands on Scorpius' body were too strong. They held him in place, immobilizing him so he couldn't turn and see who his father was speaking to but Mister Potter's eyes were worried and deep in a way reserved for a child.

James.

"It was an accident," Scorpius rushed, pushing at his father gently. He smiled, hoping it was a comforting gesture. "Some poor sod hoping to surprise his girlfriend. Rude awakening for him when we stopped spinning."

Though he could see little more than his mother's worried face and his father's disbelieving frown, the feel James' eyes on his body made his heart thunder and his hands shake. Albus' hands – Scorpius knew them now, recognised how they felt against him – were pressed against his stomach and the envy James was radiating became just as piercing as his stare.

Scorpius tugged away from his father's hands on his shoulders, his mother's hands in his and Albus' hands on his abdomen. "I'm fine," he insisted, stepping around them all. "I'm not an _invalid._ "

His mother's eyes caught his, her worry visible as she glanced from James to Scorpius. She always had had a strange ability to see through his attempted deceit. The glare she gave James' grass-stained robes and muddy boots would freeze hell itself. It shouldn't have taken a genius to put two-and-two together – their similar state of dirtiness and the cautious look James kept sending Scorpius' way, but it seemed she was the only one who noticed. "Of course," she said her voice strong. She gestured toward the dining room and smiled at the Aurors. "Help yourselves to tea – a thank you for your time and hard work."

"Thank you, Astoria," Mister Potter replied, "but we'll have to decline. Plenty to do at the office–" he passed a glance to James', his expression frustrated "–and I have a family dinner tonight."

"Of course, Mister Potter; I'd say 'next time', but I'm hoping we won't have a similar situation in the future. You'll see to it, won't you?"

It clicked, then. The harshness in Mister Potter's generally gentle tone, the stiffness that settled in James' back and the smirk that enveloped Albus' face told Scorpius his mother hadn't been the only one who'd noticed – one of few, certainly, but not the only one entirely. Albus moved around James, purposely knocking their shoulders together and grinning like Voldemort might have if Harry Potter had ended up dead at his feet but James' stood still and gave Albus a knowing grin of his own. Though his voice was low, too quiet for Scorpius to hear from where he stood, his lips were slow and defined as they mouthed, 'You're a _liar._ '

When Scorpius made it to his bedroom, body weary and back aching, Albus was already laying across his bed, glaring furiously.

"You're stupid if you think he's changed. I warned you then and I'll warn you now, James – doesn't – _care_."

"I'm not assuming that he's changed. I didn't say a word about James."

"You don't have to. _Smitten_ is written all over you face."

"Smitten?" Scorpius argued, shaking his head as he lowered himself onto the bed. His sheets were cool and crisp under his skin and he only remembered to remove his cloak when he felt the sudden longing to lie down. Albus was quickly growing obnoxious and Scorpius fought to hold his tongue. "I'm not _smitten._ "

Albus snorted. "You're not pregnant either, yeah? I thought we agreed –"

"We didn't agree."

"You said –"

"That I'd think about it." Scorpius feared he might yell, the anger on his tongue was begging to be heard. "And, to be fair, I didn't even say _that_. You _told_ me to think about it. I never _said_ anything!"

When Albus settled himself at the edge of Scorpius' bed, it was with absolute silence and a confused expression. His fingers scraped through his hair, jostling the messy locks even further and he seemed unsure of if he wanted to speak or not. His lips parted, tongue snaking out to wet them as he looked up at Scorpius. Shutting his mouth, he turned away and found interest in something just behind him. When he finally did speak, he said, "Why did you never throw out those pictures?"

Scorpius didn't have to turn to know what Al's finger was pointing to. He was well aware of the line of frames on his dresser, the neat row they formed in order of the time they were taken – he and James as Sixth and Seventh Years in their school robes, them a year later in Colombia on holiday and another taken just a week before Scorpius left. There were more behind them, some with just James' smiling face at different points in their relationship and others of both of them with arms around each other and adoration in their eyes.

Al probably thought it was because Scorpius was holding on to some useless hope that things would work out. He wasn't. Letting go slowly, photo by photo and memory by memory had proven to be easier than when he'd originally tossed them all in the rubbish bin in one go. If he let them go one at a time – a memory of James' excited face across the table as he took a bite of a new dessert or a picture of James in his Auror robes, looking proud and nervous all at once – he didn't feel the pang as harshly, didn't notice the emptiness of his dresser and his mind.

Albus saw a dresser covered in pictures of James; Scorpius saw a dresser half-rid of pictures of James. One saw regression as opposed to the actual progression of moving on and Scorpius couldn't decide if he was furious or sad. It hadn't been an easy task – moving on – but he'd been strong, done well and made Easton his priority. He'd included Albus in a lot and found friendship with him. Though he somewhat expected there was something more to Al's intentions, he hadn't meant to lead him on... He hadn't meant to come to this.

"Is that why he told Teddy he wouldn't do it? It wasn't just that the stuff wasn't working – he's trying to get you back," Al said. It was news to Scorpius. He hadn't known James had changed his mind. He wanted to look Albus dead in those bright green eyes and say, 'no, it's not because of me', but he wasn't sure that he would be telling the truth.

Maybe it was because of him; maybe James really was trying to make amends. Maybe...

No.

"He isn't," Scorpius argued firmly. "I've never been the more important person in James' life. He's lost me, he knows, but he won't lose Teddy."

Albus' face offered him a firm look – a cross between wonder and frustration – as he said, "James hasn't lost you, he never will." His finger shook slightly as it pointed to Scorpius' rounded abdomen, finally stilling when he flattened his hand to press against the skin. Easton moved under Albus' palm, his tiny body seeking the warmth of his uncle's hand. "This will always connect you and James. It will define you both for the rest of your lives. You've made something permanent out of your relationship, Scorp, whether you like it or not. You'll never be rid of him, no matter where you go or how many people you keep the truth from."

Easton moved again when Albus pulled way, took slow steps toward the door and left without a backward glance. Scorpius pondered over Al's words, rolled them around in his head and voiced them aloud just to hear them again. It was dawn when he fell asleep, finally able to accept that maybe Albus' words were the truth – maybe he'd never really be free of James.

Maybe he'd never really wanted to be.

__

\- - - - -  
{to west texas}  
\- - - - -

"Where are your parents?"

Scorpius looked up from his reports, the tip of his quill dripping red ink over his desk as his eyes found James in the archway of his bedroom. "How did you get in?"

James shrugged, shoving his hands in his pockets as he stepped toward Scorpius. "Albus told me how."

It figured. The argument he and Scorpius had the previous day hadn't ended on the best note. There'd been a broken door, a shattered chandelier and a number of very affronted portraits before Albus had taken his leave. A rift had grown between them since he'd come back from the lake-side visit with James a month earlier. The friendly banter and thoughtful discussions they'd shared were a thing of the past, lost in a sea of arguments about how James wasn't good enough for Scorpius and how Albus could take care of them all. 

He hadn't taken Scorpius reminding him that he didn't want or need to be taken care of very well. Scorpius wasn't sure when Al would ever be back... _If_ Al would ever be back.

"It's how he handles being upset," James continued slowly, as though even he didn't understand how to explain Al's actions. "Al is... Well, he's..."

"He's just Albus." Scorpius looked away. He attempted to read the nearest line about International diplomacy and grew frustrated when he read the same line three times before realising that is attention was more focused on the warmth of the body standing behind him than the report that would determine his entire future. He felt completely ashamed.

He wasn't sure if James agreed or not. The silence offered him no hints and Scorpius wasn't willing to turn around. His back hurt, his neck ached and he'd promised himself he wouldn't move until he fully reviewed and understood the documents before him.

James cleared his throat, a habit he'd picked up from so many years of fighting for attention from a dozen other gingers at once. "Where are your parents?"

They were in France ordering around an army of house elves wearing boots and aprons as they righted the château that would soon be his. His mother was likely overseeing the nursery, cooing over pale yellows and deep greens as she ran her fingers over vintage bassinets and tried to decide which matched her colour scheme better. In the office, his father was likely investigating a list of nannies, crossing them off with flourish if he disliked their name or their qualifications.

Scorpius minimised the truth to: "In France."

He told himself a half-honest answer was just as well as an entirely honest answer. After all, how was he meant to tell the whole truth when the biggest key was still a secret?

"Aurors say your parents are at their château."

Bugger him and his all-knowing department. Scorpius nodded, seething internally and reading the same line over again. "Do they? Well, there you go. If you were going to send spies, you shouldn't have bothered asking."

Scorpius heard James' scoff before his palm landed on Scorpius' documents, wide-spread fingers effectively blocking the words. "Albus is furious with you for telling me _anything_ and I'm furious with you for not telling me _everything_. I want to know if he's mine."

Easton kicked sharply, announcing his annoyance and Scorpius' hand moved to rub slow circles over the slightly protruding foot still pressed against his stomach. Feeling the outline of small toes and a smooth heel under his fingers, he marveled for a moment at how amazing it was to experience something so extraordinary, as though Easton was responding directly to James voice – as though he understood.

There had been a number of times over the last three weeks when Scorpius had considered telling James the absolute truth. Since their conversation in Ottery St. Catchpool, the doubt in Scorpius' mind had been dwindling with every passing day. James said he'd changed, grown-up and realised his mistakes and though James wasn't a liar, he – much like Scorpius – often didn't offer every bit of the truth. 

"I just want to know if he's mine," James continued. His voice was warm even now – less angry – and his fingers eased away from Scorpius' papers. "I can't help but feel like he is. I _know_ you, Scorpius, even more than yourself and you wouldn't... But I don't know how we could have –"

" _We_ didn't do anything," Scorpius interrupted. Easton offered him another sharp jab and calmed only when Scorpius pressed back against his foot. Scorpius couldn't decide if it was a sign he should tell James or a sign that he should stop talking soon. "I've told you already, he's not something to be _owned_. He's _no one's_."

Shaking his head, James' hair fell into his eyes. It tangled with his lashes as he took a deep breath. Scorpius had learned long ago that it meant James was growing frustrated. The gentle disposition of Harry Potter had been passed to James and though he was often the calmest of his siblings, the fire attached to the Weasleys and Potters was still very much present when Scorpius' eyes met James'. "His other parent, Scorpius – who is it?"

The sound of wind chimes flooded the room. Albus' anxious face suddenly filled Scorpius' mirror. Scorpius wondered if he'd realised his mistake, was hoping to cut them off before amends could be made. His fingers itched to press the ignore button but he found himself unable to move under James' stare. It was darker than usual, penetrating and the furiousness within them was overflowing, seeping across his face to deepen his frown and widen the flare of his nostrils. His fingers found Scorpius', intertwined them the same way they had when they'd loved one another. Easton shifted slightly in response, his body turning toward James' hand in Scorpius'.

The chimes fell silent, Albus' vivid green eyes swallowed by clear glass. James shook his fringe away from his eyes. His fingers loosened slightly in Scorpius' and his frown eased at the corners, becoming more sullen than angry as he said, "I told Teddy and Victoire I couldn't be their surrogate. It wasn't working, Scorpius, and I couldn't figure out _why_. I've never failed anything before. I always just set my mind to something, thinking that things would work out and did it. I took risks, sometimes at work but most often at home, because I felt so incredibly _lucky_ all the time."

"Your luck has run out," Scorpius informed him quietly. "No favours left to call in, I'm afraid; burned your bridges and all that rot."

"But not before Christmas Eve, yeah?" James' hand moved to Scorpius' stomach, gently pushing Scorpius' hand away from its position over Easton's foot. Scorpius' fears were suddenly cemented in that very moment. It hadn't taken weeks or months to fall in love with Easton – a single moment, a gentle kick against his hand and Scorpius had known that there would never be anything more important in his life. The flood of emotions over James' face told him that the feeling hadn't just been reserved for him. There was wonder, astonishment and a flood of love in James' face. There would be no keeping James away any longer. Half-truths and sneaking away in the middle of the night had become impossible. Scorpius hadn't had to say a word. Easton had told the truth all on his own accord and had brought them together yet again.

"I have a position in the French Ministry," Scorpius admitted. The reverence in James' expression didn't fade in response and his hand didn't retreat from Scorpius' stomach. It rested on the rounded curve, cradling the spot where Easton's foot pressed as though waiting for him to move again. "My parents are making the château habitable as we speak."

With brows drawn tight and forehead creasing, James looked up as though he suddenly understood Scorpius' words. "You can't take him to France; how will I see him if you go so far away?"

Sighing, Scorpius pushed himself away from his desk and his long-forgotten reports. He eased himself from his chair, aware of the way James' fingers moved to aid him and how comforting they were to the aching muscles. It would have been nice to have them over the last eight months. "He needs someone who will put his needs first," Scorpius said solemnly, taking a step back from James and the feel of his hands on him. "You've proven more than once that you're incapable–"

"I told Teddy I wouldn't–"

"And you'll spend the rest of your life going back, attempting to fix the problem after the fact – after the damage is already done, James. He won't understand why he isn't your main priority, why his needs come second to Teddy's or to the Auror department's. I'm an _adult_ and it bothered _me_. Can you imagine that for a child?"

Bitterness flooded James' tone, a cross between pleading and frustration that forced Scorpius another step back as he replied, "He will be. Scorpius, he already is. He's my priority now – the most important thing in my life and I've just realised he's mine."

James' hands were shaking as he reached to cover his face, palms flat against his cheeks and fingers pressed against his temples. His eyes were downcast, dark lashes hiding them from view. "I didn't see the book in your hands until later. I felt it, you know? I felt that you were different that day in Diagon Alley. Then, when I saw the book, I felt like he had to be mine. I wanted you to talk to me, to give me a chance to make things right and Albus–"

"You had chances," Scorpius interrupted. "I gave you my entire life in chances, James. But I won't give you him – he's not going to be the next version of me; forced to wake up every morning and wonder if that would be the day you'd realise what he wanted to be to you."

There was silence again. Quiet only interrupted by the elves clattering in the hall, carrying Scorpius' boxes from his study to the Floo where they would be sorted by other house elves in France. James' fingers moved from his temples to his pockets, his cheeks red from the force his palms had inflicted on them and his eyes lifted slowly to find Scorpius' hands cradling his abdomen, his fingers caressing the skin in an attempt to quell the child beneath.

"I'm not giving up. I want to know him; I want to be his dad, Scorp."

Giving up was never easy. Realising he was wrong to have tried from the beginning made it every harder and, as Scorpius swallowed the lump of confusion, disappointment and unease that had settled in his throat, he accepted that he'd made a poor decision. He nodded, understanding.

Even as Scorpius spoke, he didn't think James would allow his words to dissuade him, to convince him that he couldn't handle the challenge or that he'd fail. James didn't fail – he fell, landed flat on his arse and got up a moment later to try again. Sometimes he did it once, other times three times or more times, but Scorpius couldn't remember a day he'd spent with James where accepting defeat had ever been considered. 

If Scorpius was honest with himself, he would be been truly disappointed if James had listened to him. He thought that maybe a deep-seeded part of him didn't want to keep the secret, live with the lie. After all of it, he couldn't imagine looking at James' features in the face of his child and knowing that somewhere, James lived his daily life completely unware.

"Okay." James looked surprised, as though he'd expected to have to fight harder, prove more. But Scorpius didn't need more than James' word this time. Scorpius felt the tiny piece of jealousy rustle in his chest, awakening after settling for so many months. James wouldn't let their child down, wouldn't treat him the same way he'd treated Scorpius. At the very least, Scorpius was happy James had learned what loss felt like – that they've both learned what a toll dishonesty took and the importance of communication. It was hard to stifle the anxious rush of blood to his heart, the rapid way it beat when James smiled a moment later.

"Thank you, Scorp."

Scorpius wondered if James' eyes would ever stop winning him over.

_\- - -_

_{Time Stops}_

_\- - -_

When Easton was born, Scorpius lost his ability to speak. He was sure there were enough words in any language to describe the perfection in his arms – the messy dark hair, the pouting red lips and the thin eyelids that fluttered slightly before opening. It was the second time he'd fallen in love with those eyes – the beautiful shade of brown that didn't have a name, that didn't seem to belong to anyone but James.

And now, Easton.

For a moment he thought he'd found speech, that his mind was willing to try to use words to express the fullness in his chest, the warmth spreading through him and the sudden feeling of completeness. Looking up, he opened his mouth but found James across the room, leaning against the doorjamb and staring at them both with such adoration that Scorpius fell silent again.

"You're beautiful," James said, offering a smile that could be described as nervous and sweet all at once – as though they were meeting again on the Quidditch pitch, James' smooth voice telling him how amazing he was to watch in the air, "Both of you."

Scorpius thought it was rather vain for James to claim Easton was beautiful. They were practically twins in their colouring and facial features. He imagined this was exactly what Mrs. Potter felt holding James' wriggling body in her arms for the first time. The only bit of Scorpius in Easton was the bow-shaped lips and he found he rather loved the idea of seeing James and Easton side by side.

He lifted his hand to wave James closer and welcomed the next step in his life.

_\- - - - -_

_{It's Natural To Be Afraid}_

_\- - - - -_

When Easton was four, Scorpius attempted to date again. He took slow steps, never taking risks with French Aurors or overly flirtatious men. Safety became his crutch after being alone for so long.

Not alone, really. He'd had Easton and weekends with his parents while Easton visited James. But he hadn't had someone to call his own in a long time – ever, if he really sat and considered it. After all, James had never really been his to begin with – a product of years of being everyone else's', but never _just_ Scorpius'.

Sebastian was safe. He worked with magical documents under the Minister and spoke English as fluently as Scorpius spoke French. They had dinner close to home, never strayed from the beaten path and took their relationship slow. There was a newness to everything, even the things Scorpius had done a million times before, with Sebastian. Being everything James wasn't wasn't a requirement, but in the beginning, Scorpius couldn't help but appreciate the big differences, the little differences and the general lack of similarities between them. Sebastian asked questions before he did things (sometimes a million and one of them, mostly unnecessary) and refused to bend to the will of others (occasionally this was a good quality, though he tended to take it a step too far) and never left Scorpius' angry (mostly because he refused to leave until he got what he wanted).

Scorpius wasn't silly or jaded. He saw the bad in Sebastian just as clearly as he saw the bad in James and himself but more often than not, he was willing to overlook the occasional misstep in lieu of the nights he was able to sleep in warm arms again, feel gentle breath against his neck and wake up to a pair of eyes that weren't James' or Easton's.

It was on one of the weekends Easton was with his grandparents that Scorpius woke up to a banging at his door. He didn't need a clock to tell him it was late – much too late for visitors and much too loud to be anything but an emergency. Wrapped in only a sheet and with Sebastian calling behind him as he moved, Scorpius rushed to the door. His mind was on Easton's dark hair, expressive eyes and smiling lips and the worry in his chest was thick and slow-moving, chewing at his insides as his feet ran over the warm wooden floors.

The door held tight to its hinges, creaking tiredly as Scorpius gasped and leaned against it when it opened. James shook his head, dust and ash streaked across his skin and Easton's crying body held tight in his arms as he said, "There was an accident. Your Floo was locked and I –"

Scorpius thought James wanted to apologise for arriving unannounced, waking him and drawing him from the coolness of his sheets to the warm summer air so late in the night. But he didn't want the apology – didn't want James to think he was wrong in his actions. "No, it's fine. It's fine."

They shared a moment. James' eyes locked with Scorpius' and all the worry in his chest exploded, drawing him to James' and telling him to wrap himself in James' arms for comfort. Easton's tears left tracks down his cheeks, pale skin reappearing under dark soot and blackened lips offering horse apologies and sobbed promises never to touch the fire again.

James' held them both, Easton pressed against his chest with one arm and Scorpius' pulled closer with the other. He told them both they were okay; everything was fine and promised Easton his grandparents wouldn't hate him. "It was just a little fire," James said, watching Scorpius press a kiss to the top of Easton's head, "it scared him, more than anything. But he wanted us – I mean, he wanted you but he didn't want me to leave and I–"

Scorpius' face tightened. His lips pressed together and his fingers clenched against James' skin when he heard Sebastian's voice behind them. "I've got them, James. Thank you for bringing Easton back. We appreciate it."

There had never been a moment in Scorpius' short time with Easton where he'd considered replacing James with anyone else. He couldn't imagine a better father – a braver man for his son to look up to, a stronger person for Easton to dream of growing up to be or a person more willing to give up everything for Easton's happiness. Aside from his parents, there was no one in the world Scorpius was willing to leave Easton alone with and not fret and shake for every moment until he was back again.

Sebastian was no father figure, no person to look up to and fluent English and warm skin would only take him so far in Scorpius' life. There was no connection between Sebastian and Easton beyond the excitement of the toys and games Sebastian brought, the Muggle places he knew and took Easton to and the easygoing nature that let Easton think he could get away with murder when Sebastian was around.

James stilled, his hand moving away from Scorpius' back where it had pulled him closer. His feet took him away and Scorpius longed for those hands, the feel of James' worn shirt under his fingers and the notches of his spine as he'd felt a moment earlier. He already missed the comfort of having James and Easton together, the first real time they'd ever been that close in so, so long. The smell of fire still clung to James' hair and clothes, the ash falling over Easton's little body as he pulled him away and offered him to Scorpius' arms. With longing on his face, worry in his eyes and sadness on his lips, James said, "Right, I didn't realise... I should have known better than to have come so late when..."

It was rare to see James uncomfortable, unsure and looking for the quickest exit. Scorpius' heart ached, his free hand reaching out for James' before he gripped it with all his strength. "No, he needs you, too. Come in; stay at least until he goes to sleep."

If Sebastian minded Scorpius pulling James past him, allowing James to shower while Scorpius bathed Easton or him lying in Easton's bed with James until he fell asleep, he didn't say anything. Scorpius thought it may have had something to do with the fact that he didn't give Sebastian the chance to complain. They parted ways while James showered, Sebastian collecting his clothes and leaving silently. His bitterness lingered around the door, beside Scorpius' bed where he dressed and in front of the Floo where he stood angrily for ten minutes before he finally took his leave.

Scorpius didn't care about the frustrated sighs Sebastian gave as he left. He ignored them, pulled sheets from the cupboard as the Floo stirred to life behind him and made his own bed while James lay with Easton for just a little longer. Peering in before he went, James waved half-heartedly and thanked Scorpius for allowing him to stay. He apologised again for coming without invitation and somehow – Scorpius wasn't sure if it was he or James who initiated the first touch of warm skin, soft lips and hard bodies – they end up wrapped within each other for the first time in years. It wasn't slow and soft like the last time; James' fingers took purchase in the headboard, his body moving over Scorpius' firmly and decisively as though all the fear they'd shared at the idea of Easton's accident had somehow turned into fiery passion, enveloping them and leaving them desperate for proof that life still existed – that they were still there and they still had each other, even if everything had changed.

Cool sheets and Easton's feet across the floor weren't what Scorpius expected to wake up to the next morning. If he was honest with himself, he wasn't sure what he expected... Maybe that James would still be there, that he'd wake up in James' arms or with James' heartbeat beneath his ear, but not that he'd be alone.

"Father?"

Not alone, really. Never alone.

James' note was on the table when Scorpius and Easton sit down for breakfast. An apology was written in his messy scrawl, a promise to come for Easton on Friday and a line at the bottom that had been scribbled and blotted out with dark ink. Scorpius didn't want to know what it might have said before James erased it. He was too lost in thoughts of what exactly James was apologising for... for being with him or for leaving without a word?

Scorpius told himself the apology was for James' early, unannounced departure and on Friday when the air cracked, the door opened and Easton's excited chatter returned from outside, Scorpius thought that maybe James would explain. For an hour he waited for James' eyes to meet his, for a smile to be sent his way or for some kind of hint that James hadn't fallen into his bed by mistake – hadn't loved him so entirely for one more night on accident.

But James didn't look away from Easton, didn't offer Scorpius the smile he was waiting for. An hour later, James left him with little more than a silent château and a screaming mind for company. Easton's melodic voice and pattering feet were gone and Scorpius felt alone again – strangely alone.

_\- - - - -_

_{Remember Me As A Time Of Day}_

_\- - - - -_

It was a Sunday evening in June when six-year-old Easton came home from a short holiday with James, delight rolling off of him in waves as he tore through the door and around the corner to the kitchen. Scorpius leaned back against the worktop, expecting the quickly growing body that ran directly into his legs and buried its head against his stomach. He released an undignified 'umph' at the contact before kneeling to let his eyes drink in Easton's overjoyed face, the dark hair brushing against his forehead and his warm eyes as his little lips babbled about the clear sea, the blue sky and the great time he had in Italy.

"Dad brought Her-my-oh-nee" – Scorpius smiled slightly at Easton's struggled pronunciation and the ecstatic cheer he gave when he realised he'd said the name correctly, just barely noticing James' voice from the other room begging Easton to stop speaking – "and she said maybe if I'm good, I'll have a little brother one day. You know, like Uncle Al is dad's little brother and –"

The first thing Scorpius thought was, ' _There is no way in hell.'_  
The second was, _'Hermione would never have...'_

James had not been within arm's reach of him in years. The night Easton set Malfoy Manor's drawing room aflame and James had brought him home, weary and weeping but safe and sound had been the last time they'd even shared a conversation more than three sentences long. Eye contact had been avoided, more words than required had been evaded at all costs and, if Scorpius hadn't been there the night of Easton's conception himself, he would have wondered how exactly two people who struggled to stay so far apart had managed to create a child so wonderful in the first place.

Clearing his throat, James said, "Easton, why don't you go to your room? Unpack your trunk for your Father, yeah?"

"In a minute," Easton replied his little hand waving James off dismissively. His eyes stayed locked on Scorpius', bright youthful brown nearly tearing at the corner with his effort to fight the enthusiasm in his shaking limbs. "She said she was going to have a baby one day and we'd be _related_ , like Uncle Al and dad only we'd be _half_ brothers. Why don't _you_ just have the baby? Then we could be _whole_ brothers, right?"

"Easton," James said, "go unpack."

Scorpius glared at James, the first real bout of attention he'd been willingly to give him in months. "Who is Hermione, Easton?"

For a moment, Easton looked confused. When the look passed, shock crossed his features before fear swallowed his expression whole. Bouncing legs and swinging arms stilled. He glanced back to James, his little lips mouthing 'sorry, daddy' before he shook his head. Fringe brushed across his forehead in waves, eyes lost behind the hair as he looked down and said, "I wasn't s'pposed to tell you."

After so many years of praising James' parenting skills, questioning himself for even considering denying James knowledge of Easton's existence, Scorpius was left breathless as the pure, unhindered anger flooded his chest at the mere mention of a secret. There weren't supposed to be secrets, nothing told to Easton that the other wasn't meant to know and now, Scorpius had been blind-sided by one – a big, baby-producing one – and he considered killing James before deciding murder was far too messy and magic was too easily traceable.

"It's alright, mate." James' voice was consoling, even from the distance and Scorpius let his bitterness ebb just slightly as Easton's brows unfurrowed. His back straightened, body moving to hug Scorpius' tightly. He welcomed the embrace, wrapping his arms around Easton's back and shoulders, holding him close and pressing a quick kiss to the crown of Easton's head. "You shouldn't have had to keep secrets," James added.

Easton nodded, his forehead pressed warmly to Scorpius shoulder. He mumbled, "But I still want my brother."

The ache in Scorpius' heart renewed full force. "Right, well, that'll be up to your dad then, won't it? That's something you can talk over next weekend. For now, I think some time to unpack might do us all some good."

Still a little wobbly, Easton retreated from Scorpius' embrace. Quick steps took him to James and Scorpius allowed them a moment of whispers and nods before he joined them at the threshold of the room. He gave Easton's back a little pat and silently encouraged him to his room. "I'll come help you in a moment, just let me see your dad to his Portkey."

"Sorry, dad," Easton whispered again. "I didn't mean to."

Scorpius felt awful. The disappointment etched in every line of Easton's tiny face was heartbreaking. For a moment, he hated James for putting Easton in this position – for forcing him to hold something back from Scorpius and ultimately leaving him to feel like a failure when he spoke in a moment of excitement. How was a child so young meant to hold something so big inside of him? How could anyone let him think he could?

"I was going to –"

"How could you do that to him?" Scorpius questioned his voice tight in his throat. He turned away from James, from his eyes and his frown before it made him angrier than he already was. James' feelings, his own disappointment, were already there. Scorpius couldn't tell if it was disappointment in himself or in Easton for letting his secret slip. "I thought you said this was supposed to be a family holiday, not a..." Scorpius didn't know what word to use. He didn't know who or what the woman Easton mentioned was to James. He knew she was promising Easton little siblings, a family like James' – the kind of thing Easton talked about after weekends with the Potters and the Weasleys – and a future as though she would be the one to give him all of it. "I don't suppose he was talking about your aunt."

"No," James admitted. "Her mum was a fan of the famous trio."

"Clinging to the name then. Just what I need around my son, someone who sees 'Potter' and thinks she'll be set for life if she has it."

"He's my son, too," said James. He scrapped his fingers through his hair, ruffling it even further. "She was just trying to connect with him somehow. She wants him to like her."

Scorpius scoffed, shaking his head. "Of course she does. Anyone can see that the easiest way to get to you is through Easton. He's not a pawn, James. He's not meant to be –"

"I know that! I – Know – That. Stop trying to _parent me_."

Silent, Scorpius' gaze turned to James'. Their eyes met and a long second passed before James turned away. His face was hard, brows furrowed and lips set in a tight line. James muttered, "I _know_ that, Scorpius."

"So you just said. Numerous times, mind you." He wanted to believe James – to believe _in_ James – but it was hard to see anything more than Easton's face when James turned to him. He saw down turned rosy lips, the crease in his tiny forehead and the deep hurt in Easton's face before he remembered it wasn't Easton all.

Just James.

Always James.

"I didn't realise you liked..." Scorpius paused, unsure of how to continue. He didn't want to talk about Easton's pain anymore or the future James'... He wasn't sure what she was. He was sure didn't want to know, though. "I didn't realise you liked girls."

The tension eased just a little. James laughed. "Well, before you they weren't so bad. Figured you ruined me as far as blokes go. Birds are the only other option, yeah?"

"There are always farm animals," Scorpius suggested, "if it doesn't work out."

"I'll keep that in mind." The smile James finally gave was genuine, the contagious kind that even Scorpius in all of his frustration and disappointment couldn't help but adore. For a single, flashing second, it was almost like it used to be. The kitchen was warm and it was easy to recall years ago in the summer when he and James sliced vegetables the Muggle way and laughed about stupid, silly things that were of such little importance that Scorpius couldn't even remember any more. Recalling the feel of James' chest pressed against his back, his hands over Scorpius' waist and his lips whispering about the deliciously deviant things he wanted for dessert after was much easier.

"There was only ever really you," James said. He looked away, eyes locked on anything but Scorpius and for a moment, Scorpius' heart lurched in his chest. "She's honestly not... She just wanted him to like her."

"I'm sure he does, now. He's delighted about his... future siblings."

"Scorpius, I didn't –"

"You don't own me an explanation." Scorpius told himself it was the truth. James didn't owe him an explanation... James hadn't owed him anything in a long, long time. The very last things Scorpius wanted from James were love, care and to be his one and only. He hadn't received any of them. Or maybe James had given him love and care, but he hadn't shown it well enough to make Scorpius stay – to make him want to wake up every day for the rest of his life, waiting to see if it was going to be the day James loved no one but him. It was hard to escape James' words though, his declaration that Scorpius was the only one for him – that there was no man in the world who could ever replace him and that he'd left James with no other option but a girl who dreamed of being a Potter and wanted nothing more than to befriend his son to earn the title. "But I expect her to live up to her promises or stop making them."

It hurt to suggest James have a child with her, with a woman he didn't know who will ultimately become what Scorpius' should have been in James' life. He imagined James' excitement when he found out he was expecting another child, the way his hands would feel pressed against her stomach as it expanded with the growth of their child much like Scorpius' hands once held his own rounded abdomen. James would have every day with he and Hermione's child, a wife to share its firsts with and he wondered how soon it would be before Easton was forced onto the back burner because he was second-best in the perfect little family James and his new wife would make with their child.

"She won't be making any more promises," James replied quietly. "I don't intend on having more children; one is enough. Easton is more than enough."

There was a time when James wanted a small army of children, dozens of brown-eyed blonds racing through green grass and splashing in cool lake water. The fire that used to flood James' face with happiness at the thought had diminished, replaced by subdued warmth as he glanced down the hall and listened to Easton off-tune voice singing his favourite lines from French pop stars. It was a look of acceptance and when Scorpius smiled and looked away, he couldn't deny the pride that swelled in his chest. James would never bond with something the same way he had with Scorpius, he would never look into the eyes of a child he shared with anyone else and at the heart of all things important, there would never be a person more important in James' world than Easton and Scorpius had made that happen.

Scorpius just wished things could have been different. James could have loved him more than Teddy, could have waited a few years before they'd had Easton and maybe, just maybe, James would have loved him, too.

_\- - - - -_

_{The Only Moment We Were Alone}_

_\- - - - -_

"You're not supposed to be in here; no one is."

Scorpius had never stood face to face with Hermione before. James' long-term girlfriend and I had come to a silent agreement and stayed out of each other's way, our of each other's line of vision and didn 't speak to each other unless absolutely necessary. He wasn't sure why, exactly, she'd taken such an approach to him but he assumed his less than welcoming attitude had been part of the reason why. James had brought up how 'not so bad' she was on more than one occasion, but Scorpius couldn't bring himself to like a person who promised Easton the family Scorpius couldn't provide him with. He'd even started to feel the itch of hatred when Easton had come home and whispered, "Hermione promised she would have a baby next year. We're going to be a _family_ , but I'll still love you, too."

His finger stilled at the corner of a frame on James' desk. The glass was cool, cracked in the corner as though it had faced a drop or too and he attempted not to notice the streak across the frame, as though a thumb had ghosted over the image a million times or two. "Sorry," he hoped it sounded sincere, "wrong door."

"The loo is the next one over," Hermione replied. "Not a problem, really. People end up misplaced in here all the time, but he doesn't like... He doesn't want people in here."

Scorpius scoffed, a cross between amused an annoyed. He wanted a moment more in James' personal space, the smell of his skin lingering in the air just as it had in their tiny flat in London. A masochist, he wanted to examine every frame in James' office, already imaging Hermione's bouncing blonde curls and bright blue eyes alongside James' darker features and Easton's beaming face between them both. Scorpius wanted to know how beautiful they all were together; what a perfect little family they would make if he wasn't always standing in the backdrop, waiting for Easton's firecall on weekends or doting on him on his way out of the door. James had never been very private or personal. In fact, the James Scorpius remembered didn't believe in closed doors (the loo, of course, was his exception) or personal space. "I don't understand why. It's not as though he does business in here."

"Your pictures," she explained, her voice quiet but strong, "are very personal. He doesn't like people tampering with them."

His pictures? Certainly he'd heard that wrong.

Hermione continued, "Why can't you just let him go? _I_ could make him happy; I could be everything you were if he gave me the _chance_ to."

Scorpius, confused, shook his head. "I don't know –"

"It's always about you. What Scorpius did, Scorpius' accomplishments, Scorpius' plans for life, where James and Scorpius should have gone when they'd had the chance." She paused, blue eyes fierce and corners tearing as took as step forward, planting herself in front of him. Her perfume was strong, a fruity scent Scorpius recognised as something James would hate. She didn't seem to know James hated the smell of pineapple, she'd sprayed so much that the smell of patchouli and grass he knew to be James' had diminished in her wake. Hermione pointed a ruby coloured finger toward his face. "I won't play second fiddle to you for the rest of my life, Malfoy. You had him first and I'll accept that, but you need to let – him – go."

Scorpius was Teddy. He realised in flashing moment that the conversation he was experiencing in that moment was one he'd acted out in his head more than once, imagining it was his finger in Teddy's personal space demanding Teddy let James free, tell him in however many words it took to convince him, that there was no chance of he and Teddy ever being in a relationship. Scorpius recognised the fear in his posture when he'd walked into the house earlier that day for Easton's 8th birthday. The way her hand had refused to leave James' and her eyes followed Scorpius' every movement had annoyed him, even made him angry enough to consider leaving, but he knew now that she had been clutching to the hope that Scorpius wouldn't come and sweep James away from her, back into his arms or that James wouldn't do something similar to Scorpius.

He stood silent as she lost control, a broken sob in her throat as she turned away. The door slammed behind her, wood creaking as it settled in the jamb and Scorpius wasn't sure if he should follow her. He wasn't the competition, not even close, but the hope in his chest that throbbed at the thought that he _could_ be was all encompassing. It wouldn't be fair to catch her, tell her that James didn't love him while he imagined himself living with James, throwing Easton's birthday parties in England and feeding each other birthday cake as Hermione and James had earlier.

The frames on the mantles were numerous, varied in size and shape and when Scorpius turned to him, he was amazed by them all. Most were of Easton, documenting his life step by step through his previous eight years. Easton sleeping in the worn mahogany cot that had once been James', Easton's face covered in mashed peas as he flashed a single shining tooth and Easton's hands clasped to his first broom for dear life a few years later. The terror etched in his face as he floated just off the ground was adorable and Scorpius couldn't quell the bit of laughter that escaped his throat.

On James' desk were less frames. The first, settled in the corner next to a worn golden snitch whose wings had ceased to flutter, was Easton as an infant in Scorpius' arms. He had a similar one of James, asleep in the rocking chair at the château with Easton resting against his chest. He'd been awake, watching as Scorpius had come through the door and he'd cooed against his dad's chest before James' arms had tightened instinctively around his tiny body. Scorpius' chest had never felt more full and content than he had in that nursery, surrounded by the sense of rightness despite his desperate attempts to convince himself he'd made the right decision. He'd left for a reason, a good one, and there would be no turning back.

The pictures on James' desk was different, though. Scorpius, weary and worn, had just given birth to Easton. They were both asleep, perfectly content looks on their face and then, so quickly Scorpius almost missed it, his picture image's eyes fluttered open and a small smile stretched across his lips. It was vain to consider the picture breathtaking, but he did. The moment wasn't one he could remember. He'd been tired, restless and wanted nothing but to sleep for hours after Easton had arrived but somehow, he'd given James a moment that he'd treasured even after all this time – after everything they'd been through.

He watched it over and over until he forced himself to look away, fingers moving to lift the frame laid face down on the desk. The wet streaks across the glass were drying slowly and the smudges from a single finger tracing the same pattern over the surface were telling signs that maybe the argument he'd heard earlier were all in relation to this. The voices, raised and angry, were what had brought him to James' office in the first place. Scorpius had been curious, intrigued to hear Hermione's muffled screams and James' angry retorts. All the words had been inaudible, by the situation had been clear. Hermione was angry, fed up and ready to leave if James didn't make a decision about something – something big and a decision soon.

Amazed, however, didn't even cover the way he felt the moment he lifted the frame gingerly to assure he was seeing properly. The hair over dark sheets was pale, white blond rather than the yellow curls Hermione had and the eyes staring back at his were brimming with adoration like he'd never seen – love like he was certain he had never experienced – and were his. Grey, warm and perfectly shaped on his face, Scorpius remembered the moment it was taken like it had been yesterday. The night before Christmas Eve, their final night together as they were before, James had promised Scorpius forever and they'd stared at each other for what seemed like hours, content with the silence around them. James had leaned over the bed at one point, reached blindly until he'd found the camera and raised it to his line of sight.

"I want to remember this moment for the rest of my life. You... You have no idea how beautiful you are right now," James had said and he'd kissed Scorpius breathless a moment later when he'd nodded his consent.

The pictured started fresh, pale lashes blinking to cover irises filled with more love than a heart should be able to handle and lips curving upward in a way only the happiest person alive should have been capable of. Scorpius blinked back tears, unsure of how to handle the sudden rush of emotion that seemed determined to swallow him entirely. Hermione had claimed James loved him, wanted nothing more than him and was still waiting for his return and Scorpius had doubted her entirely. He'd hoped for the truth but thought better, convinced himself he knew James better than to assume he was still clinging to dreams of Scorpius coming back but...

He set the well-loved frame back on James' desk, right at the corner where it had been originally. The streaks across Scorpius' smiling lips, the tender thumb printed practically engraved in the glass over Scorpius' tinted cheeks were stark in the light through the window. Outside, Easton screamed and begged for mercy. James' laugh followed, promising more tickles and warning his son to never claim to be too old for tickle wars and Scorpius swallowed the lump in his throat before he pushed the image face-down, hiding the past from view and wishing he'd never stepped into James' space.

As he walked out, the pictures of he and James shared worried glances. Scorpius was sure that in the years they'd been taken – when he and James had loved one another so unconditionally that forever truly meant until the end of time – they'd never imagined the people they would turn into – the love that would be lost between them.

Or the love that would never really leave them.

_\- - - - -_

_{Postcards From 1952}_

_\- - - - -_

"I can't see him," Easton growled from up ahead, dark hair long enough to curl around his collar as he stretched to distinguish one player from another. "Uncle Al said he was _playing_ today."

Scorpius didn't answer. He couldn't have even if he'd wanted to. From the back of the family booth Albus reserved for the Potters and Weasleys during home Quidditch matches, he voice would be practically inaudible. Most of the time, Scorpius avoided the awkward situation entirely by shooing Easton off with James, waving his hand dismissively as he made up stories about paperwork due on Monday and meetings with co-workers he couldn't miss. This weekend though, he had plans to be in Germany and hadn't thought of an excuse fast enough. A cancelled meeting left him standing in silence when James asked, "Why can't you come? Everyone would love to see you. You haven't come to one of Al's games since..." He'd stopped then and looked away. "Just come to the game, Scorpius."

It had been a long time since he'd been forced into a room full of Potters and Weasleys. Years, to be exact, and Scorpius could still remember the overstuffed cushions and Albus' whispered warnings in his ear. James' shy smile and Teddy's enthusiastic announcement – all the things that had ultimately led him to France, away from England and with a beautiful little boy he was proud to call his own. He wasn't very pleased with trying to meld himself in a Potter family gathering again but Harry and Ginny had welcomed him kindly, asked him the standard questions and seemed genuinely pleased with his boring answers.

Now he was seated in the back, three rows behind James and Easton. The game was of no importance. He took the time to watch Easton bounce up and down in his seat with excitement, pleased just to see Easton so happy. Hermione clasped Easton's hand in her own and told him to sit still, be patient and wait quietly. It took all that Scorpius had to not scream as he watched her grip Easton's hand as a mother would and tell him to behave.

James got to her first. A quick look she'd clearly received before sent her back to her seat. She stilled, went silent and looked away as James wrapped his arm around Easton and pulled him close to whisper in his ear. Easton nodded, easily persuaded by his dad and sat still in his seat before turning just slightly to look behind him. Scorpius smiled when their eyes met, his heart blooming as Easton returned the gesture. He didn't ask again why he wouldn't come sit next to James and Hermione, why he insisted on being as far away from them as possible and Scorpius appreciated the sudden disinterest.

Victoire turned in her own seat, caught Scorpius' smile to Easton and gave him one of her own. The toddler in her lap cooed, turquoise hair shifting to a warm maroon before her attention went back to the players soaring the skies ahead of them. Teddy's hand pulled her closer, the embrace taking place so few feet ahead of Scorpius that he thought he might be sick. It was hard to watch them and think that they could have had that so much sooner if he hadn't fought James, that Teddy would have taken James' offer willingly knowing that James didn't have the emotional capacity to carry a child for nine months and then just leave it behind, in the arms of someone else meant to be called 'dad'.

"You've had a spot reserved for years and never showed. Why the sudden visit?"

The voice in his ear was low, quiet and breathy but the arrogance and devious tone were impossible to forget. "Easton wanted me to come, I couldn't think of an excuse not to fast enough," Scorpius replied

"Not for James, then?" Albus asked, setting his body in the empty seat next to him. The cheers of the crowd around them were loud, easily heard in their private box and everyone in front of them seemed so enraptured in the game that they seemed to have forgotten that the player they were there to see wasn't even on the pitch. "You haven't answered any of my owls."

Scorpius sighed. He missed when he and Albus could talk as friends, the short lived months they'd had as confidants had faded just as quickly as it had come when James found out the truth. Occasionally Albus sent letters asking Scorpius to try again, to see how things worked out and encouraged him to remember that he and Easton already had a close bond, that little would change in their relationship but everything could change in Albus and Scorpius'.

"I've been very busy," Scorpius reminded him, conscious that it was the same excuse he'd once given James. He wondered if Albus remembered that day in Flourish and Blotts as well as he did. "Work, Easton and... It's just a lot to handle."

So busy that his life only involved two things? He knew Albus won't fall for it.

Sure enough, Albus said, "Busy with work and Easton? My, how do you manage to handle it all? I won't mention that Easton spends weekends with James and I'm available nearly every weekend after 8."

"Good, I'd appreciate if you didn't mention that."

Albus laughed. No one turned to look in their direction. Hermione's fingers tangled in James, their hands joined over Easton's lap as he bounced a little and continued to look toward the sky for the player that wasn't there. "He seems fine with moving on after you," Al whispered. His fingers moved through the sparse hairs at the back of Scorpius' neck, the motion strange after having gone so long without being touched in such an intimate way. "Why aren't you moving on, too? What are you waiting for? Him to come back? To be with you? What is it you're expecting, Scorp?"

It had been years since he'd been 'Scorp', years since he'd been anyone but 'Scorpius Malfoy, Head of Foreign Relations' or 'father'. Looking forward, he realised that James really hadn't turned to look at him. He and Easton were entirely enveloped in the excitement of the moment, hardly missing the fact that Scorpius was alone behind them. Easton he could understand, but James' lack of interest in his well-being at all was disheartening – heartbreaking, even. He'd waited for a sudden declaration of love, a breakup to be announced or something to convince him that the pictures in James' office were there for a reason but he hadn't heard a word about it since. No apologies, no whispered promises and nothing to suggest he hadn't made all of that hope up in his mind.

Scorpius shook himself away from Albus' fingers. "Why aren't you playing?"

"I'm injured," Albus said coolly, holding up a bandaged arm, "and I had to take a trip to the loo."

"Clearly."

"Honestly," said Albus, ignoring Scorpius' reply, "what are you waiting for? A miracle?"

Scorpius looked up, his eyes focused on the back of Easton's head against James' shoulder, already tired so early in the evening. The Bat's seeker took a dive, the team erupting in cheers as his body soared downward, hand out and fingers stretched as he reached for the snitch. It was easy to remember James on a broom like that, reaching out for something so small no one should really have been able to see it but always seeming to catch it with time to spare and with swift grace most lacked on foot, much less on a broom. Scorpius watched the Bat's seeker reach the snitch, wrap it in his palm and display it to the cheering crowd. In that moment, Albus' hands gripped Scorpius' cheeks and turned his face to meet Al's lips. Al pressed toward him desperately, mouth warm and fingers soft against his jaw much like they'd been years ago at Christmas when Scorpius' back had been pressed against the solid wall and Albus' voice had demanded he remember that feeling when James finally left – or maybe when Scorpius finally left James.

The flashing second before Scorpius succumbed, he saw James turning to smile at him from the corner of his eye. It was a bright flash of teeth, red lips pulled upward in delight suddenly lost behind Scorpius' eyelids as Al moved closer. He couldn't help but wonder if the smile had faded, if the brightness in James' eyes had darkened at the sight of Albus' mouth pressed so intimately to his.

More than anything, though, he wondered why Albus' kiss felt so terribly wrong. Even Albus, the closest thing we was ever likely to have to James, didn't reignite the fire James let die so long ago. He wondered if anyone ever would.

_\- - - - -_

_{With Tired Eyes, Tired Minds, Tired Souls, We Slept}_

_\- - - - -_

"Stop," Easton insisted, pushing Scorpius away, "you're going to confuse the Sorting Hat and make him put me in Ravenclaw if you touch my hair anymore."

Scorpius frowned, wondering where exactly the sudden dislike of Ravenclaw had come from. He considered the fact that Easton had spent the week previous with Albus, off in Ballycastle playing Quidditch and leaning about chasing girls (though Scorpius hadn't been the least bit happy to hear about that) and thought that clearly, Albus must have been talking about more than Quidditch tricks and tits.

He cringed.

Easton lifted himself on the tips of his toes, already taller than most of the curious First Years around him but stretching to see over the heads of everyone else. His face was worried, eyes darting back and forth between the newly arriving parents in search of his own. They paused on every dark-haired person that walked through the wall, his frown deepening when he realised they weren't James.

"He'll be here," Scorpius assured him. He wrapped his arm around Easton's shoulder and pulled him close. When he didn't receive a word of argument, he added, "He wouldn't miss your first day for anything, Easton. He's just a little late; you know the Auror department works on their own timelines."

"They've been arguing a lot lately," replied Easton quietly as he shook his head, "mostly about me and how much time he spends with me. Hermione said you could send me off on your own. I don't think he'll –"

Easton paused, lips slowly spreading into a smile and eyes brightening quickly at something just over Scorpius' shoulder. He didn't have to wonder what it was – or rather, who it was. James' voice was loud over the chatter of excited children and worrying parents as he called, "There you are! I had the hardest time finding you! Thank Merlin your father's hair is as telling as it is, yeah?"

Scorpius attempted to pretend he didn't hear the comment. He probably did have the brightest hair of anyone on Platform 9 and ¾ but that certainly didn't mean he had to agree aloud. James seemed entirely unfazed by the disapproving frown Scorpius offered him. He wrapped his arm around Easton's shoulder, tugging him close to his side and ruffling his dark hair with his free hand. "You're going to make an awesome Slytherin!"

"A Slytherin? You said there wasn't a Potter in history who wasn't a Gryffindor." Easton said, eyes growing wider and more worried with every word. He looked around, as though trying to find the exit as quickly as possible. "Is Durmstrang still an option? I think I've changed my mind."

Dumstrang had been Scorpius' school of choice. He and James had debated for weeks before leaving the option up to Easton, who had ultimately chosen Hogwarts after an impromptu weekend with James' family. There was no doubt in Scorpius' mind that bribery was involved. Easton had come home talking about swotty Ravenclaws and lackadaisical Hufflepuffs like he'd already experienced them for himself. His weekend trunk had come home filled with neatly folded Hogwarts robes before he'd even told Scorpius which school was his final decision.

Scorpius bristled slightly Easton's words. James cast a questioning look his way before feigning innocence. "It's a good thing you're not a Potter, then," Scorpius said when Easton's eyes found his. "I saved you from being a Gryffindor _and_ an idiot."

"I don't want to be a Ravenclaw, either!"

One thing Scorpius couldn't denying loving about James was his ability to meet Easton at his level, calm him in the worst of situations and make sense of complicated things in life in a way that Easton could understand. He turned Easton to face him, bent down to meet his eyes and quietly enough for only the three of them to hear, he said, "Houses aren't meant to divide us; your father and I were in different Houses and we both ended up as pretty great men. You will, too. You'll have a great time anywhere."

They were gorgeous together – father and son, with the same fine features, warm colouring and faces that could melt the heart of everyone around. It would have been impossible to deny Easton was James' if he'd tried. Scorpius imagined what this day might have been like if he had stayed silent, held the truth in with himself and taken on the task of parenting all on his own. Would they be standing on Platform 9 and ¾ with the worried crease in Easton's forehead easing with every comforting word from Scorpius' mouth, rather than James'?

"Okay," announced Easton firmly, "I'll be fine wherever, right?"

"Right," James agreed. "You'll be fine wherever. We'll love you no matter where you end up."

When Easton's gaze found Scorpius', the question was silent but clearly waiting to be answered. He nodded, smiling when Easton's body collided with his. Scorpius' arms held him as tightly as possible. He could hardly think straight, mind lost in thoughts that this may be the last hug he'd receive for months. He'd never been away from Easton for so long, was completely unsure of where his breath had gone but was desperately wishing he had it back so he could say something promising, something to make sure Easton wouldn't forget what waited for him at home.

The whistle blew, the noise echoing through the platform as Easton pulled away. "I'll write, yeah? Loads of letters before the end of the week, I promise."

Nodding, Scorpius watched as James passed the handle of the trunk before him to Easton. His hand slipped a small velvet pouch in the pocket of Easton's robes and told him to eat plenty of Pumpkin Pasties and Cauldron Cakes and to remember that Peeves had a fondness for Potters if he played his cards right. If he didn't, he was likely to be bathing four times a day before Christmas.

"We'll miss you," Scorpius said, feeling slightly awkward a moment later when he realised he'd paired he and James' emotions together in one sentence. When James said, "Yeah, we will," he felt a little less ridiculous and he felt the loss he was feeling ease.

"Right, then," mumbled Easton, biting his lip slightly as he turned from his parents to the waiting train, "I'll see you at Christmas."

James' arm found Scorpius' shoulder, his hand pulling them together. "Go on," he said, sounding far too content with the idea of Easton walking away, "we'll see you during hols. Don't worry about your father, I'll make sure he eats his veg and doesn't kill your grandparents' peacocks. Go on, have fun and be a Gryffindor!"

"Alright, thanks." Easton's grin was priceless and so perfect that Scorpius couldn't decide if he was happy to see him excited or saddened by the delight he was experiencing while walking away. He decided on the former, unable to quell his own smile as he watched Easton's body disappear onto the train.

"You were late," he said a moment later, eyes searching for Easton's head in the windows as the steam engine passed but unable to find him. "He was worried."

James shook his head. "I wouldn't have missed this. I told you years ago, I'd never let him down and I haven't. I didn't plan on starting today. She just –"

"Hermione?"

"Who else? She and I just haven't been working out. She wants something I can't give her and it's wearing us both down – her asking is killing my patience, my declining is killing hers. We split last weekend, just to see how it was and... I haven't had a better time in my life. A weekend with Easton by the lake, swimming and flying... It was perfect. No interruptions, no dinner conversation about more children or marriage. I never wanted those things with her, I wanted them with –"

_You._

Scorpius wished the word was there, floating in the air between them and waiting for his response. Instead, he was greeted with a strange silence. He took a deep breath, wondering how exactly he'd managed to hold on to such a terrible hope for so many years. Being apart had done little but make it worse and it seemed every step away from James made him realise that though he was one step further from the old James, he was always taking one step closer to the new, more mature James – the James who had told Teddy 'no', who had thrown his fertility potions in the rubbish bin a month after Scorpius had left but had never mentioned it because he didn't want Scorpius to know how much him leaving had hurt. He was moving closer, falling in love with the James who took Easton to the park as a toddler, taught him to fly and who made promises he never failed to meet. He exceeded every exception Scorpius had, grew to become the dad Easton needed him to be and never left Scorpius to regret telling the truth.

"You, Scorpius."

There it was; the single word he'd been waiting for. The three-letters he'd held his breath for years for, dreamed about at night and wondered if he'd ever hear. Finally, it had come.

"I know you thought otherwise, that I never made it very clear and that sometimes, I truly lost sight of it, but you've always been the only one. No one could replace you or Easton, no one could ever mean as much to me as you both do and... I can't marry her, have children with her and wish everyday that I had you instead. I did that to you with Teddy and I never even _loved_ him the way you thought."

He was speechless, tongue heavy in his mouth and words long gone from his mind. James' hand was shaking slightly on his shoulder, his fingers still clamped to Scorpius' arm and holding him close but the easygoing stance was deserted in favour of a tense back and taunt neck. The worry came off him in waves, practically drowning Scorpius before Scorpius finally managed to steel his nerve and step away.

Shaking his head, he said, "You can't just say things like this after almost twelve years. You can't change your mind. People don't work that way, trust doesn't work that way."

"Let's go for Butterbeer," James offered. The crowds around them dispersed slowly, families trickling back to Kings Cross through the barrier but James stood firm, body blocking Scorpius from leaving. "We'll go to the Three Broomsticks. We'll start over, from the beginning; Butterbeer and Quidditch, yeah? We can still trust those, can't we? The simple things?"

Scorpius considered him, allowed himself to remember a younger version of James' face across from him in the Three Broomsticks, warm Butterbeer pressed between his hands and lips forming words Scorpius hadn't even listened to. He'd been too enraptured with James' smile, the way his knee occasionally bumped against Scorpius' and his teeth as they gripped his bottom lip, tugging it inward and nipping it when he seemed to be nervous. They'd held hands during the trek back to the castle and for a moment, Scorpius could remember every line in James' palm as it ran across his back a year later, the press of James' fingers against his hips and the hard curve of James' shoulder that was comforting and comfortable despite the thick bone and cool skin.

Would it be worth it to take the risk again? To put himself in a position where he could be second-best to someone else? It wouldn't be Teddy this time, he knew. There was very little left between Teddy and James, Scorpius could tell, but the possibility still existed – just as it always had. They were two entirely different people now with miles between then. Was it worth it? Was James worth it?

"I don't get to visit England often," Scorpius replied quietly, offering a rare shrug. "I haven't had a trip to the Three Broomsticks since I was seventeen."

James smiled slightly and nodded. "I haven't in nearly as long, either. Great place to start then, yeah? Seventeen again? I'm pretty sure I still remember a few of my stupid jokes, if you'd like to hear them."

Scorpius laughed, destroying his attempt to hold a serious face. The easy grin James offered, the proffered hand waiting for his and the worry mixed with hope in James' eyes were all too much at once. He was still very much the James Scorpius had loved, the boy he'd cared for hidden in the body of a man and changed by years of work, but still there – awake, alive and waiting for him. "I could use a joke or two," Scorpius replied. "My son just left, I won't see him for months."

"Really? Mine, too. Strange, that; you'd almost think yours and mine were one in the same."

When Scorpius' palm met James', there was still worry rustling in his chest. Fear lingered in his mind and the tiny voice pleading him to think things over was still there. But, louder and stronger than them all, the dying fire within his heart roared to life and rose, welcoming a chance for something Scorpius had once lost and hoping for the very best.


End file.
